Give me some a that voodoo thang
by nellia cimor
Summary: two worlds collide as magic interferes in the lives of one penelope garcia and one dean winchester. they are complete opposites. or are they? find out!
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CRIMINAL MINDS, SUPERNATURAL, OR ANY COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL HERE IN

"You believe in voo-doo?", Derek asked incredulously, watching as Garcia went about her tech lair 'cleansing' her servers with some sort of burning herb.

"It's actually pronounced 'whoo-doo', and yes, when I feel like my digital babies have endured as much evil as they can handle, I back up my files, wipe the hard drives, re-install me some Linux, and fire up a little sage mixture for complete purification." she waved the burning leaves under his nose, but he didn't really mind as it smelled quite pleasant.

"Women, you are some kinds of crazy", Derek chuckled.

Penelope shrugged nonchalantly, stubbing the sage out in her cold, dreggy, green tea. "It seems to have worked for me so far, so.."

"Why mess with a good thing?", Derek finished for her, beckoning for her to have a seat on his lap, which she did willingly, allowing him to wrap his strong, protective arms around her.

"Exactly", she sighed contentedly, checking one last time around her office to make sure everything was in order, then leaning into Derek's neck with a smile. "What ever keeps my family safe."

Derek grinned and kissed the top of her silly golden head. She was the best little witch he'd ever met. After all, she had sure charmed her way into his heart.

[a/n: just a note, this story switches point of view a lot. if it gets too confusing, message me. also, something happens to derek later, so i wanted him to have a nice moment before everything goes awol. love y'all. peace.]


	2. Chapter 2

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CRIMINAL MINDS, SUPERNATURAL, OR ANY COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL HERE IN

"I dunno about this, Bobby..", Dean stated warily, eying the various herbs with an air of trepidation.

"Just shadd'up, id'jiot", Bobby barked, drawing the final lines of chalk around the idle in the middle of his coffee table. "I'm tryin' ta concentrate so I don't blow us all to kin'dom come."

"Don't mess with the guy with the incantation, got ya", Dean winked nervously, unable to stop fidgeting.

Bobby rolled his eyes. These boys were gonna be the death of him..

"So, this spell should get the spirit or demon or whatever that's in the idle to come out so we can kill it?", Sam asked to confirm the details.

"Should", Bobby nodded, rolling up his sleeves to prepare them for the sandalwood oil coating they still needed. He'd also scrawled elaborate markings from the heart of the palms of his hands to the base of his shoulder blades as the ritual instructions had dictated were necessary. When the oil was glistening lightly over the entire surface of his forearms, he nodded again in satisfaction. "Okay. Now you young'uns stand back, 'cause as soon as this thing pops outta the case, I'm gonna be countin' on you to smite the bastard, got it?"

"Yes, sir", Sam answered, pulling his brother with him to the stack of funky looking weapons bobby had managed to determine would effectively vanquish the bastard. They each choose one and waited.

Bobby began to recite the incantation from memory, as he had to keep his hands free in order to catch the spirit. His voice sounded eerie in the quiet old house, and when he was finished, a tense silence reigned.

Just when they were at their most anxious, the spirit burst from concealment, and hurled itself directly at Bobby's head. Bobby had enough sense left in him after the initial surprise to clamp his mouth shut and try and make a grab for the thing before it smacked into him. He stared wide-eyed at the whirling, hissing, screaming mass of black smoke that he'd managed to stop inches from his face for a moment before he turned to the two boys. "KILL IT!", he bellowed.

Sam charged forward with what could be best described as some sort of stake and dean was ready with a wonky type of hatchet for back up.

When all was said and done, the vile beast had been slain and the heroes had been victorious, despite nearly destroying Bobby's living room.

Dean shook his head in slight disgust, eying the tiny wooden idle. "That was one tough midget", he commented, reaching out his hand to inspect the thing now that he presumed it was safe.

"Don't-!", Bobby tried to warn the dumb-ass, but it was too late.

Two tiny balls of residual energy freed themselves from the idle, one, bee-lining it for Dean's stupid open mouth and the other high-tailing it out Bobby's living room window.

Dean slowly turned to face his other two companions, an expression of utter horror gracing his features. What had he done?

[a/n: i wonder what was in the statue? hmmm..]


	3. Chapter 3

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CRIMINAL MINDS, SUPERNATURAL, OR ANY COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL HERE IN

Penelope blinked. That was weird. She could have sworn she'd seen a strange flash of light a minute ago.. 'whoa, garcy-girl', she admonished herself inwardly. 'that's enough late night Ocarina of Time emulations for you! You're startin' to see navi everywhere..' she shutdown her laptop with a few deft key strokes and climbed under the purple and pink covers of her ever-so-comfy bed with a contented smile. She slowly drifted off into a peaceful sleep.. unaware that trouble had a hold of her and wasn't letting go...

[a/n: chaos is brewing..]


	4. Chapter 4

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CRIMINAL MINDS, SUPERNATURAL, OR ANY COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL HERE IN

"What happened?", Dean managed to choke out.

"Nothin' that I can see", Bobby answered, giving Dean a once-over. "How 'ya feelin'?"

"A funky ball of light just flew down my throat! I'm fuckin' freakin' out over here!", Dean barked as if it should have been obvious.

"Well, it wouldn't have happened if you hadn't picked up the damn thing", Bobby sighed in an slightly irritated tone.

"I thought you'd nuked it with that spell!", Dean roared defensively. "How was I supposed to know it was still packin' some juice?"

"Ask next time, dumb-ass!", Bobby growled. "Anyway, All this name callin' and blame gamin' ain't doin' us any good. I'll see if there's a' other incantation lyin' around that'll get whatever it is outta ya'. Then we can burn that hunk-a-junk good and proper."

"I thought we were returning it the the museum?", Sam asked, confused.

Bobby shook his head. "Too dangerous. Lord only knows what else is lurkin' around in there.." he nodded his head towards Dean. "You should rest awhile 'til we figure this out."

Dean swallowed any comments he had left and nodded in nervous agreement, lying down on Bobby's couch and grabbing a cushion to hug to his chest. Fucking evil statues and their god damned hocus-pocus bullshit...

[a/n: sleep tight. don't let the evil light spirits bite..]


	5. Chapter 5

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CRIMINAL MINDS, SUPERNATURAL, OR ANY COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL HERE IN

Dean woke gasping for air. He'd had the creepiest dream about drowning he'd ever had in his life and it had surprisingly scared him more then any monster ever could. His heart was beating a million miles a minute- Wait a second.. Something was wrong... His chest was aching, like, BAD, and everything was hazy. He couldn't see! He went to try and rub the grains of sleep from his eyes, but when his knuckles came into contact with his skin, he could feel soft cheeks, free of stubble, that definitely weren't his, and eyelashes that had some kind of black gunk glued into them. Dean yelped in surprise; he sorely regretted that action moments later.

"What the hell?", he shrieked. "Dude!, I sound like a chick!"

Dean scrambled out from underneath the covers of a bed that definitely wasn't his, and tried to get his bearings. First thing was first, he had to clear up whatever was screwing with his eyesight. Dean squinted around his immediate vicinity. He managed to suss out the outline of a bedside table and felt around the top surface of the table, searching with hesitant fingers for an object he was now sure must be located there. When his fingertips brushed against the pair of glasses, he seized hold of them and shoved them roughly onto 'his' face. His surroundings came sharply into focus. The walls were purple. The bed was purple. The room looked like a hippy and a pixie had had a baby up in it and that baby had vomited a rainbow all over everything, and there was a kind of dangling curtain instead of a proper bedroom door.

"The 70's called", Dean muttered aloud. "Disco is dead." He half expected music from a cheesy porno to start playing. When said music did in fact start to play as if some invisible being had willed it, Dean froze in terror. Then he realized it was emanating from the tiny pink cellphone beside the bedside lamp.

"Okay, so that was crap-your-pants terrifying..", Dean whispered to himself before answering the phone. At best it would be Bobby or Sam ready to explain everything. If not? Well.. at least the music had stopped. "Hello?", he asked, cringing at the sound of this stranger's voice.

"Hey, baby girl", came a voice that made dean's previous fears return. "You know I'm all for blowing off work to go have fun, but that's only if you invite me along", the man teased.

"Um..", Dean had no idea what to say. He hadn't a sweet clue who this guy was or, even more importantly, who he was at the moment.

The rumbling voice laughed. "Did I catch you at a bad time? Don't tell me you're playin' hooky with Kevin instead of me. Now that's no fun."

"I'm, Ah, I'm here by myself", Dean managed somehow. "Listen, Um, Dude.. Sorry for not calling the boss, but I missed the alarm and I'm not feelin' too hot, could somebody cover for me?"

Dean could practically hear the man on the other end of the call frown. "Garcia.. Are you feeling alright?", he asked his concern intensifying with every syllable.

Dean had to defuse this situation fast. "Yeah, I'm okay. Just got a cold or somethin'. I'll be better before you know it. Just tell the boss man I'm taking a few days, alright?"

Derek was suspicious. Something was definitely up. His Penelope always choose to work herself silly rather than call in sick. Not that this change in character was necessarily a bad one, but it wasn't her. And he was determined to find out what it was. It was time for some down time of his own..

"Okay, sweetness", Derek pretended to agree with a slightly exaggerated sigh. "Just take care of yourself, okay?" a plan was already formulating in his mind. He would buy her her favorite breakfast items and quietly surprise her with them. Hopefully that would make her open her door and heart to him.

"Will do", Dean nodded with a falsely cheerful voice before ending the call without a proper good-bye.

He shivered. Looking down at the body he was currently inhabiting, he noticed something he couldn't believe he hadn't thought of immediately; he had boobs. He was wearing a rather provocative nighty and he had ample boob-age blocking his view of the continued bottom half of this body.

He had the sudden urge to find a mirror.

Dean left the purple infested room and headed out in search of the washroom he assumed was located near by. A look around the rest of the place informed him it was some type of small apartment and was decorated in the same crazy fashion (or lack-there-of), as the purple room.

"Seriously?", Dean muttered aloud, shaking his head, "The frickin' care bears are looking saner right now.."

Dean located the washroom and stepped inside, his mind too distracted by the acid-trip of the place he was in to even consider not being prepared for what he would see when he looked into the washroom mirror. When eyes met reflected eyes, three things were abundantly clear... He did indeed have cleavage and a vag'. The nighty he was wearing barely concealed his modesty. And, as he stared into those golden brown eyes framed in those black rimmed glasses and ran a hand through soft, tousled blonde hair, he knew life would never be the same again.

[a/n: dean has found himself in penelope's body. whatever shall he do? sorry about the comments on penelope's apartment, but it's entirely true to character. personally, i love her apartment.]


	6. Chapter 6

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CRIMINAL MINDS, SUPERNATURAL, OR ANY COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL HERE IN

Penelope woke with a terrible jolt. She'd had a dream. A horrible dream. She'd dreamt of being buried alive. It had been ghastly. It had been-

Penelope blinked. She could see. For the first time in a long time, she could see clearly. Almost completely perfectly. When she attempted to focus on something, it worked. No squinting. No strain. Just pure eye power. Tears welled in the corners of her eyes. It felt like such an incredible miracle that it took her a good few minutes to question it. Her heart sank as she realized that this sort of thing was impossible. Miracles didn't happen.. At least not to her... At least not like this.. she reached up with her right hand to see if maybe she'd fallen asleep with her glasses on, but the moment her fingertips brushed her skin, her whole world began to spin into utter chaos. It was then that she began to notice the bushy eyebrows.. the roughly textured fingers.. the calloused palm that lead to the hairy forearm, that lead to the muscly bicep that lead to the-

"Holy crap, my chest!", Penelope barked in alarm, grasping the strong, man-like pecs that didn't seem as if they had ever been boobs. It was flat! Completely flat, and she couldn't wrap her head around it! "And my voice!", she wailed in a easy base tone. "Not my voice! Somebody help me! Please! Please! PLEASE!" Penelope was becoming desperate and was close to hyperventilation and unconsciousness. This couldn't be happening. It was impossible. It was irrational. It was mind-blowing.

Bobby and Sam came bursting into Bobby's living room like the devil himself had been chasing them.

"What in the sam hill are you yelpin' about, boy?", Bobby demanded to know. Half concerned, half severely pissed off.

"Help me!", Penelope bleated pathetically, wringing the hands that weren't hers through the air at dizzying speeds. "Oh god, please help me whoever you are! PLEASE! Good god, this voice!", Penelope ground out the last part in frustration. "I hate it! It sounds so- so- cliche, macho man, bad boy!"

"Seriously, Dean", Sam asked, eyebrow quirked in his brother's direction, "What is up with you?"

"Who in the H-E-double sippy straws is Dean?", Penelope asked, panic setting in as she realized the lanky, long-haired one must think she was supposed to be this Dean person. "My name is Penelope Elouise Garcia. I'm a technical analyst at the FBI headquarters in Quantico Virginia. I have a small apartment in a quiet neighborhood and a geeky boyfriend named Kevin Lynch- and why am I telling you all this?" Penelope shut her mouth abruptly. For all she knew, these two strange men could somehow be holding her captive and had preformed some kind on weird experiment on her. "Who are you is what I should be asking!", she snapped, fear making her defensive. "And what have you done to me?"

[a/n: and penelope has found herself in dean's body. oh dear...]


	7. Chapter 7

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CRIMINAL MINDS, SUPERNATURAL, OR ANY COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL HERE IN

After the edge from the initial shock had worn off, Dean took stock of his appearance. All things considered, he figured he very well could have fared worse. The face was cute enough and with a little lipstick and some other makeup stuff he reasoned he could still pull off sexy. The hair seemed to be behaving itself as far as he could tell and the chest, although slightly painful for some reason, was a ten out of ten in his books, so no problems there. It bothered him that this body had no defined muscles to speak of as that meant he'd have to put in a lot of man hours to rectify the situation, but he had never been one to say no to a lady with curves when he was a man, so he figured it didn't make a difference now that he seemed to have become a women. Yes, he nodded to himself in acceptance. He could work with this, for the time being.

Dean wandered cautiously out of the washroom and headed back into the purple bedroom area where he suspected the closet would be located.

"Time to dress this chick", Dean muttered aloud, pulling open the closet doors and inspecting the infamous wardrobe. "Ho-ly-c-rap..", was all Dean could say. "I gotta say, this lady's gotta have balls to wear anything in here out in public.." Dean had already figured out what must have happened to him by process of elimination and the conclusion he had drawn was some type of soul swap. A 'freaky friday' esque scenario. He was in some poor girl's body and she was stuck in his. He chuckled to himself when he imagined Bobby and Sam having to deal with the soul of a weepy flower child. Dean searched through the jam-packed closet until he found a section that looked as though it had been through a goth phase in the 80's and had secretly continued from time to time.

"Now we're talkin'", Dean smirked, pulling the surprisingly heavy leather jacket out the the closet and admiring it's condition. "Poor thing, doesn't look like she wears you too much.." a few more minutes of searching produced a short-sleeved, silk, black top and some dark navy, rock'n'roll, denim jeans. Dean nodded. "Better." if he had to wear woman's clothing, he might as well look half decent while still keeping true to his own tastes. Dean tossed the clothes on the purple bed and moved on to the set of dresser draws opposite the closet. The under garments he found in the top two drawers made him blush slightly, then there came more nighties and other assorted night wear and the bottom drawer was socks, tights and hose. Dean wasn't in the mood to attempt anything too complicated, so he skipped the bottom drawer entirely, grabbed the bra that was the most 'normal' and returned to the pile of clothes he had previously selected. Now came the tricky part. Dean knew that the average girl didn't take their clothes off for just anybody, so that meant anyone who hadn't asked their permission before hand was most certainly not allowed, and even though he saw this as a major exception to that rule, he still considered it a total lack of respect to see this girl's nakedness. He thought of a simple solution almost immediately. Dean removed the glasses. There. Blind as a bat. That would make everything far easier and less embarrassing. He could still make out colors and fuzzy outlines, but that was about it.

Dean, being extremely proficient at removing woman's clothes, found that he was as equally skilled at applying them. After he had finished, he returned the black frames to his face and trudged back into the washroom. Dean regarded the extensive variety of make up splayed across the washroom sink counter top and wisely decided to opt out. He did however, pick up a tube of hot rod red lipstick. He'd used chapstick once or twice over the years and figured of all the things he could choose to mess with, lipstick would be the easiest. After a few heroic, yet failed attempts and about ten red stained tissues later, he'd finally managed a passable grade. He twisted the evil thing closed with a triumphant grin and checked that he hadn't gotten his teeth stained again. Just as he was searching around the apartment for some ID and cash, dean heard a sound that made his blood run ice cold- someone was turning a key in the lock of the apartment door.

[a/n: dean seems to be handling things better than penelope at the moment..]


	8. Chapter 8

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CRIMINAL MINDS, SUPERNATURAL, OR ANY COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL HERE IN

"Calm down now, we ain't gonna hurt ya'", Bobby tried to sooth the hysterical Penelope.

"I should say you're not!", Penelope snarled. "You have no idea who you're messing with, beard-o! I have friends! Friends with guns and a license to kill and let me tell you something! When they find out I'm gone, your plaid ass is gonna be grass, ya got me?"

"Listen- Penelope, is it?", Sam asked, trying to barter a state of peace.

"That's Miss Garcia to you, lanky", she growled, eyes narrowing.

Sam tried not to laugh at how ridiculous his brother's body sounded with an angry women running his mouth. "Miss Garcia. We are just as confused and concerned about this situation as you are. What I do know is you must've switched bodies with my brother somehow."

"We know this?", Bobby interrupted.

"Well, yeah, I mean.. it's the only explanation that makes any sense", Sam hypothesized. "Think about it; Two balls of light flew out of the idle- One hopped down Dean's throat, and the other one took of out of the window. The second whatever-it-was must have found Miss Garcia and latched onto her for some reason."

Something clicked in Penelope's mind. "Did you say balls of light?"

"Uh, yeah", Sam replied in a slight curious tone.

"And here I thought I was just playing too much Zelda", Penelope wondered aloud.

Sam was surprised. "Wait.. like, ocarina of time Zelda?", he asked.

"Yeah, I was playing it before I fell asleep", Penelope nodded.

"God, I didn't know anybody was still making those", Sam reminisced nostalgically.

"Oh, I wasn't playing on a console, I had an emulator on my laptop", Penelope explained.

Sam was excited. "Oh, you totally have to hook me up with one of those! I haven't played vintage video games in forever!"

Penelope shrugged. Why not? It would get her mind off of her current situation. "Sure, what operating system do you use?"

"I think playin' games can wait for a'nother time, guys." Bobby admonished. "First things first; we gotta get a hold 'a Dean."

[a/n: video games are awesome. that is all. :) ]


	9. Chapter 9

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CRIMINAL MINDS, SUPERNATURAL, OR ANY COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL HERE IN

Dean eyes darted quickly around the small apartment's kitchen. He spied a can of pam cooking spray on a counter nearby and grabbed it, fishing around in the pockets of the leather jacket, hoping for a lighter. Luckily, he found one.

"Alright, you sonavabitch", Dean whispered to himself, aiming the nozzle of the spray can at the door and holding the lighter at the ready. "One wrong move and you're extra crispy.."

The apartment door opened and there stood a tall, built, african american dude with a plain, white, shopping bag in one hand and a surprised expression on his face.

Derek held up his hands in surrender. "Whoa, baby girl, chill out! It's just me, sweetness. It's Morgan."

Dean recognized the voice from his previous phone call with the man, and relaxed slightly.

"Morgan! Fuck, man, you scared the shit outta me", Dean chuckled lightly, trying to distract the guy from the fact that he had been so close to lighting him up a second ago.

Derek did a double-take. Did she just say what he thought she'd said?

"Since when do you curse?", he asked, suspicion mounting.

Shit. It seemed he would have to bull shit his way out of this one.

"Well, you frightened me. What was I supposed to say?" ah, that was lame.

"Um, frack or shittles, you know, the usual", Derek answered honestly. "What has gotten into you today? First, you call in sick to work, which has never happened in all the years that I've known you. Second, you act like I'm breaking into your apartment when we both know you gave me a key after that bastard battle shot you, because you said you needed someone you could count on should you ever run afoul of fiends again, and thirdly- what on earth are you wearing?" Derek gave his girl a serious appraisal. She was wearing things he would have never suspected she even owned much less thought to wear, her hair was still ruffled from sleep and her face, which was usually a complete rainbow display, was entirely void of any make up accept a rather jarring shade of lipstick. Not that the look didn't suit her; on the contrary. She had never looked more smokin', but it was still shocking and leaning towards left field.

Dean looked down at himself and shrugged nonchalantly.

"I didn't think a lot of color would be any good today, and I didn't feel like wearing anything other then pants, so- I dunno -I just slapped something together- are those waffles I smell?" Dean stood on tip-toe and eyed the shopping bag hanging innocent and unassumingly from Derek's right hand. Only when he had smelled the delicious breakfast-y odors wafting from said bag had he realized how extremely hungry he was. Well, at least that part hadn't changed. He still had a healthy appetite.

Derek's worry began to ease away and his smile slowly returned.

"Only the best for an out of sorts princess", he teased.

Dean frowned slightly. He was uncomfortable with this dude and his incessant need to flirt with what he supposedly thought was his... what? Girlfriend? Dean had no idea. What he did know was that it needed to end, now.

"Look, dude, cut the mushy crap, would ya? I totally don't even want to pretend to play along, okay?" Dean could see the hurt spring into Morgan's eyes, so he decided to cut the poor guy a break. "I really ain't the person you think I am."

"I get it", Derek shrugged, averting his gaze, and sticking his hands in his coat pockets.

"No, you really don't", dean tried to assure him in a round about way. "Listen, even if I told you what was going on, there is no way in a million years you would believe me."

"Try me", Derek countered, folding his arms across his chest and assuming an annoyed posture.

"Dude, trust me, you don't want to hear what I have to say."

"Yes, I do", Derek insisted stubbornly. "If something is going on with you, I want to know about it. You can trust me, Penelope. We're supposed to be best friends."

"Oh, good. We're just friends. That's a relief", Dean chuckled nervously. "For a minute there I thought you might be her boyfriend or something. What with the ringtone, and the pet names, and the breakfast, and the flirting-"

"Excuse me?", Derek interrupted, aghast.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you", Dean was quick to amend. "I was just being paranoid. No way is Dean Winchester interested in guys. I don't care if I'm a chick now or not."

"What are you talking about?" Derek was completely lost. "Who's Dean Winchester?"

Dean shot Morgan an apologetic look from the face of his former best friend.

"I'm Dean Winchester, and I'll try to come up with answers to all of your questions.."

[a/n: please let me know what you think of this story so far. thank you.]


	10. Chapter 10

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CRIMINAL MINDS, SUPERNATURAL, OR ANY COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL HERE IN

Bobby handed the handset for his home phone over to the woman who was currently inhabiting dean's body.

"If ya' put in your digits there, Miss Garcia, we might be able to get a'hold of the idjiot y'r wearin'".

Penelope nodded and punched in the numbers for her cell.

Morgan still had that stunned 'I-can't-believe-what-I'm-hearing' look on his face as the tiny pink cellphone began to ring again.

Dean snatched it from where he had previously dropped it in his haste to grab the can of pam, and flicked it open.

"Yello?"

"Um, Hi.."

A chill ran down Dean's borrowed spine as he heard his own voice greet him.

"And you must be, erm, me.."

"And you sound like me", Penelope agreed.

"Weird", they both said in unison.

"Um, listen, some dude named Morgan called me this morning-", Dean tried to explain, but was cut off by Penelope.

"Oh my god! What did you say to him?", Penelope fretted. "Oh frackity frack! I was supposed to be at work an hour and a half ago!"

"Geez, he wasn't kidding when he said you don't curse", Dean half smirked.

Penelope froze. "Wait, you cursed at Derek in MY body? Why did you curse at him? If you did ANYTHING to him, I'll-!"

"Calm down, freak-zilla!", Dean barked nervously, getting seriously weirded out by having to argue with.. 'himself'. "Your boy-toy is safe. He didn't, however, completely buy the story I told him about catching a cold, so he's kinda... standing right in front of me.. right now-"

"And he knows about-?"

"I just told him", Dean answered.

"How's he taking it?", Penelope asked, her worry evident, and warranted.

"He's just kinda.. staring at me like I'm a space creature", Dean replied honestly.

"Listen, Um, Dean?", Penelope asked, still unsure of herself and her predicament.

Dean nodded until he realized she couldn't see him, so he responded, "Yeah?"

"Dean, Derek is a profiler. He's trained to think logically. And magical body switching thingys don't make logical sense, so if you tell him you're not me, he's not going to believe you no matter what you say or do. He'll simply choose to believe that I'm suffering from some sort of psychotic break. It's the only way he'll be able to rationalize it."

"I see", Dean affirmed, noticing Morgan had already begun to slowly lower the breakfast he was carrying onto the kitchen counter and brace himself in a fighting stance position.

It was almost as if this Penelope girl could read his mind for her next words were, "Do not try to fight him in hand to hand combat. He's a tactical trainer for the FBI. You are in my body. He will win."

"Got ya", Dean agreed, slowly beginning to back away from Derek, who in turn, was slowly creeping towards him.

"Running is no good. He jogs every morning with his dog, clooney, and goes to the gym every second day when he's not on a case."

"Do you stalk this guy?", Dean asked, still backing away inch by inch and trying not to trip over anything.

"I've known him for years. We know everything about each other", she answered. she could hear the slight amount of panic rising in 'her' voice, and her eyes narrowed in recognition. "He's going to chase you, isn't he?"

"Looks like it", Dean nodded, fear mounting with each step taken by either party involved.

"Head for the bathroom", Penelope ordered sharply.

Dean reacted on instinct, swerving out of Derek's reach just as the man lunged for him.

"The lock on the door twists in", Penelope instructed, 'her' heart beginning to race.

Bobby and Sam were listening in, their concern growing as the conversation seemed to escalate.

"Got it!", dean whooped, skidding into the washroom, grabbing hold of the door handle, and simultaneously slamming the door shut and twisting the locking mechanism in the handle closed.

Derek's beefy shoulder crashed into the door seconds later with a solid thud.

"That door's not gonna hold him for long", Penelope warned, biting one of her borrowed nails anxiously. "He breaks them down for a living."

"Well, I hope you have a plan then!", Dean wailed, sounding more grating then he normally would have because his voice was high pitched and female.

"Just let me think..", Penelope muttered, her mind working at light speeds as if this was information she was looking up for a case.

"Take your time!", Dean bellowed between Derek hammering on the washroom door and demanding to be allowed in. Dean glanced around the room, searching frantically for a weapon of opportunity. Not something that would kill the guy, but rather something that might knock him out of commission for a while.. and then he realized he still held the can of pam... "Um, okay. Don't be mad, but I have a can of pam and if you don't come up with a plan soon, this is going in pretty boy's eyes", he whispered in undertone so the angry Morgan wouldn't hear him.

Penelope shook her head for lease. "That will only work for a few seconds at most. You need a phase two."

Dean eyed up Penelope's shower then whispered, "Do you have any particular attachment to your shower curtain?"

"Um, a little. Why?"

"Well, that's too bad, because it's the only hope I've got", Dean answered, trying to unhook the curtain as quietly and as quickly as possible.

"There are two bath robes on the back of the door. You can use the ties as restraints", Penelope added helpfully, figuring she could live with the loss of her shower curtain if it meant her body stayed out of a mental ward. Derek was sure to admit her. Or who he thought was her thinking she was someone else.. her head ached.

"Thanks", Dean smiled gratefully, unstringing the robes and tucking the ties into one corner of the shower along with the curtain for later use. He then took a deep breath and faced the bulging, straining door again. "See ya on the other side", Dean said by way of good-bye before ending the call in Penelope's rented ear. "Derek?", he called out in a frightened, girly, uncertain way.

"Baby girl.. what's going on?", Derek asked, ceasing his assault on Penelope's washroom door momentarily.

"I dunno.. Derek... I'm scared", the fake Penelope pretended to sob.

"Don't worry, sweetness. I'm gonna get you some help", Derek tried to reassure her. "Just open the door and let me in okay?"

"O-okay", Dean answered haltingly, doing a pretty good job of masquerading as the blonde. Dean made sure not to allow Morgan anytime to react after the door was opened and unlocked.

"Oh, you are gonna hate me..", he tutted apologetically, spraying the pam in the poor man's eyes and whacking him over the head with a dislodged towel bar. Dean had left the part about the towel bar out of his conversation with the girl wearing his meat suit. He had a sneaking suspicion she would have forbidden it. Dean made sure the man was unconscious, but still breathing and then trussed him up hunter-style. He left the knots loose enough that the poor guy could get himself free after he regained awareness, grabbed a pair of socks from Penelope's dresser and the grunge-like boots by the door, snatched the breakfast from the kitchen counter out of necessity, located what looked to be Penelope's keys and high-tailed it out the apartment, locking the door behind himself.

[a/n: poor derek. if only he believed in magic..]


	11. Chapter 11

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CRIMINAL MINDS, SUPERNATURAL, OR ANY COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL HERE IN

Dean hit redial on the tiny, pink cell phone and waited for Penelope, Sam or Bobby to pick up.

"You hung up on me!", barked a familiar voice.

"Yeah, I needed two hands to hog-tie your love muffin", Dean replied irritably. "Hey, quick question- What kind of car do you own?"

"Oh no!", the Penelope with Dean's voice roared. "You DO NOT get to TOUCH my baby!"

Sam, who had only heard Penelope's end of the discussion, blanched. "You have a baby?"

Penelope waved Dean's hand at Sam to signal he should remain silent.

Dean slowed his roll. "Would you rather I steal a car?"

"No! God, be a normal stiff and take the effing bus!", Penelope shrieked.

Dean held the cell away from his ear, grimacing, then returned it to it's previous position. "Don't use my voice like that!", he complained. "If it makes you feel any better, I know about cars. You can ask Sam or Bobby."

Penelope's scruffy head snapped towards the two men in the room with her, and she held her hand over the receiver. "Dean says he knows about cars, is that true?"

Sam chuckled. Wow. Somethings just didn't change even if you switched bodies. "That's a bit of an understatement", Sam answered. "He's practically married to the impala."

Bobby nodded in agreement. "Spends most of his time fine-tunin' 'er out in the garage."

"Wait, like, chevy impala?", Penelope asked, to both Sam and Bobby's surprise. "You have a chevy impala?", she asked Dean. "What year?"

"She's a 67'", Dean purred with pride. "Jet black. She was my dad's car, and now she's all mine."

Dean heard a sharp intake of breath, and then, "Where is it? Can I see 'er?"

Dean laughed out load with Penelope's voice. "Can I talk to Bobby first?"

Penelope held up the phone. "Who's Bobby?"

Bobby took a moment to appricate how strange it was that those words had come out of Dean's mouth, and then he moved for the phone. "Dean?"

"Bobby", Dean breathed in relief. "Man, It's so good to hear your voice."

"How's the panty hose treatin' ya, sister?", Bobby joked, and then laughed when dean let out a string of swears and threats. "Okay, okay, calm down, kid. I was only yankin' u'r chain. This is definitely one for the yearbook though. How goes the jail-break?"

"Pretty good", Dean replied, glancing around the parking lot he was standing in, "Just need a car, so I'm gonna do something I wouldn't do normally- I'm going to let her hold onto my car keys- DO NOT let her drive it, got it? I'm countin' on ya."

"Sure thing, sport", Bobby affirmed. "We'll hold down the fort here. Just get on over in one piece, alright?"

"Will do", Dean nodded, "Now put the imposter back on the phone."

Bobby passed the phone back Penelope. "So can I see her now?", she asked almost immediately.

"Ask Bobby to take you out to the garage", Dean answered.

Penelope held her borrowed hand over the receiver. "He says I can see it."

"Follow me", Bobby gestured.

Penelope got up from Bobby's couch unsteadily, but caught herself just before she fell over.

"Whoa", she breathed, "New legs.."

Eventually they made it out to Bobby's main garage, and when Bobby flung the huge, metal doors wide, the sight she beheld nearly took her breath away. The old car was stunning and looked to be supremely well taken care of.

"Hello, ya still there?", Dean asked with a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Yeah..", Penelope answered, running 'her' fingers over the glossy, black hood. "She's beautiful..", she whispered reverently.

Dean smiled. If someone had to be in his body, he was glad it was a person that could appreciate the finer things in life. "So, does this earn me a temporary car pass?"

"Sure", Penelope agreed, all higher functioning thought banished from her mind for the moment as her eyes devoured the impala.

"So, what's your ride look like?", Dean asked, itching to get moving.

"It's huge and orange. You can't miss it", Penelope answered.

Dean glanced around the parking lot for a few minutes before he finally spotted what he assumed must be the car.

"Holy crap! It's a fuckin' tank!", Dean exclaimed.

It was Penelope's turn to smile proudly. "Pretty, ain't she?"

"Scratch boat- that's a super tanker! You weren't kidding! This thing's gigantic!"

"Do you like it?", Penelope chuckled.

"It's awesome", Dean replied solemnly.

"I trust you'll take care with her then?"

"You have my word", Dean swore. "Don't worry, sweetheart", Dean purred in undertone to the beastly machine. "I'll be gentle.."

Penelope laughed. "She appreciates it. Now, get here in one piece, and we'll be golden."

"Yes, ma'am", Dean confirmed, ending the call quickly and flicking the cell phone closed.

Dean slid the key carefully into the ignition and turned it over. The engine sprang to life with a satisfied roar and Dean laughed triumphantly.

"Come on, baby! Drive me home!"

[a/n: i haven't read any stories so far that relay the fact that they both love old cars. i wish to amend that.]


	12. Chapter 12

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CRIMINAL MINDS, SUPERNATURAL, OR ANY COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL HERE IN...

After an hour or two of just driving, Dean decided to chance the radio. He noticed someone had taken out the old system and replaced it with a slightly tweaked out set up. Hoping that whatever came blaring out of the speakers was anything but Gaga, Dean turned the dial. He was pleasantly surprised. The intro sounded fairly rock'n'roll. "I could get used to this..", he mused aloud, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel and bobbing his head. When he heard the lyrics, he almost busted a gut laughing. It was 'Tear It Up' by Queen. Dean shook his borrowed head in amusement. "Perfect", he grinned.

'Are you ready? Well, are you ready? We gonna tear it up!'

'Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah!'

'Turn me lose, baby..'

'Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah!'

'Wooah!'

'Hey! Give me your mind, baby! Give me your body..'

'Yeah! Give me some time, baby, let's have a party..'

'It ain't no time for sleepin', baby, soon it's round your street I'm creepin'- you better be ready!'

'We gotta tear it up! Stir it up! Break it up! Baby!

'We gotta tear it up! Shake it up! Make it up- as you go along!'

'Tear it up! Swear it up! Wake it up! Baby!'

'Tear it up! Start it up! Stake it out- and you can't go wrong..'

'Hey. Listen, I love you 'cause you're sweeter, love you 'cause you're naughty..'

'Yeah! I love you for your mind, baby, give me your body..'

'Oh, I wanna be a toy at your birthday party..'

'Wind me up! Wind me up! Wind me up!- and let me go!'

'Tear it up! Stir it up! Break it up!- and let me go..

'Tear it up! Shake it up! Make it up!- as you go along!'

'Tear it up! Turn it up! Burn it up! Baby..'

'Are you ready? Oh yeah!'

'Baby, baby, baby, are you ready for me? Oh yeah!'

'Baby, baby, baby, are you ready for love? Oh yeah!'

'Are you ready? Are you ready, are you ready for me? Yeah! Oh yeah!'

'Alright.. I love you so near! I love you so far! Gotta tell ya, baby, you're drivin' me gaga!'

It was close to noon when Dean pulled off the road and decided to check in on the incantation situation, and hopefully grab a bite to eat at a near by diner. He had taken apart the tiny, pink cell and deposited the pieces into the empty, plastic shopping bag. He figured he could get someone to stick it back together later, but if he hadn't taken the phone apart, Derek and friends might have seen fit to use the GPS to track him.

That's all he needed; the FBI back on his trial.

Dean asked to use the phone in the diner before he placed his order. He sipped a coffee and waited for someone to pick up.

"Singer's auto salvage", a gruff voice greeted, "How can I help you?"

"Bobby, It's Dean", Dean muttered in undertone into the receiver.

"Hey, cutie pie", Bobby chuckled, "How far away are ya'? 'Other you' is gettin' antsy."

"I just stopped for a bite", Dean answered, taking another sip of coffee.

"Is that Dean?", Penelope asked, having just returned from fawning over the impala for the tenth time.

Bobby nodded at 'her'.

"Can I talk to him?", she asked. "Something's bothering me.."

"Yeah, sure", Bobby shrugged, handing her the phone immediately.

"Dean?", Penelope asked using dean's old voice.

"Hey", Dean greeted, shivering inwardly. He still wasn't used to this whole someone-else-in-his-body-thing.

"Did you turn off my cell?", Penelope asked in a worried tone of voice. "My friends can track you-"

"-Via the sin card", dean finished for her. "Yeah, I know. I took it apart to be safe. Sorry about that, by the way."

"That's okay", Penelope dismissed lightly. "I could put it back together in my sleep. I was just worried about the tracking part. My team is the best in the FBI, and they have a tech pool at their disposal, so.." she trailed off.

"What's a tech pool?", Dean asked, nursing his cuppa' joe.

Penelope couldn't believe her borrowed ears. "You don't know what a tech pool is?"

"No, I'm not a frickin' genius. I don't know everything!", Dean barked.

"Sorry", Penelope apologized. "It's a room full of technical analysts who track down badies using the boundless resources of the internet", she explained. "That's what I do. For my team. I'm their specialized tech."

"So.. they can't find me without you, right?", Dean asked, his hopes high.

"I will admit they'll have a more difficult time of it", Penelope sighed. "but alas, there are indeed suitable replacements."

"can you keep an eye on the news for me then, and give me a heads up if I.. you.. this body should become the FBI's most wanted?"

Penelope chuckled at the unintended innuendo.

"I'm gonna pick up a disposable cell and send Sam the digits", Dean continued.

"Will do", Penelope agreed, "What are you up to anyway? I hope you're treating my body right." Penelope hadn't meant for it to come out all flirty, but it was difficult to rein that sort of thing when your new voice was so... silky.

Dean cringed. "Um... creepy, but- yeah. Everything's good here. I don't intend to do anything that might attract too much attention, so don't worry. This piece a' tail ain't going nowhere."

"Hey!", Penelope huffed, making Dean's voice sound rather girly, "My usual body is not just some piece of tail! I treat it the same way I treat Ester! Not just any old thing goes into that 'engine'!"

"Who's Ester?", Dean was almost afraid to ask. He was picturing some 80-year-old lady with grey, curly hair and a lilac dress-suit for some reason.

"You've been driving around in her..", Penelope rolled 'her' eyes.

"You named your car Ester?", Dean asked incredulously.

"Well, what was I supposed to name her?", Penelope fumed. "I bet it's better then whatever you named yours!"

"My car doesn't need a name because it already had one when my dad bought it!", Dean barked. "Im-pal-a!"

"Oh that's so original", Penelope mocked.

"It doesn't need to be 'original'", Dean argued, losing his cool a little before remembering he was in the middle of a diner and was trying to keep a low profile. "It's functional", he continued in undertone. And then, a thought occurred to him. "Hey, are you allergic to anything, by the way? It's just- I don't wanna put me in the hospital just 'cause I ate peas or something."

Penelope thought the abrupt change in topic rather odd, but replied never-the-less. "Um, no. Not really. Veggies are fine. It's only meat you gotta worry about."

"Come again?", Dean asked 'his' heart skipping a couple of beats.

"My body can't handle protein very well", Penelope explained. "My parents were hippies. I've been a vegetarian since I was seven."

"SON-OF-A-BITCH!", Dean cursed rather loudly in despair. This was turning into a nightmare and people were beginning to stare. "You mean to tell me that even two bites of a delicious cheese burger might make me hurl?"

"I'm saying that if you take two bites of any kind of meat besides a small amount of fish, you may be looking at toxic shock and a coma", Penelope tried to stress how serious the situation was, "not to mention the major loss of karma. Eating animals is wrong. It's like eating poor, defenceless babies."

"The dumb cow doesn't care anymore!", Dean growled in abject frustration. "It's dead!"

"You self-centred carnivore!", Penelope snapped.

"You damn tree-huggin'-bitch!", Dean snarled back. "Of all the enviro- green house- flower sniffin- rainbows and sunshine lovin'- van hoppin' skanks on this god damn blue marble, I had to get the one with the meat allergy!"

"Well, excuse me, 'princess'!", Penelope barked, "I'm so sorry I'd rather not eat anything that once had a face! Once felt the warmth of the sun on it's skin! Once may have had children and a family! Maybe they didn't understand what they had, but they had it! They had emotions, and eyes, and hearts, and maybe even a soul, so whatever gives us the right to take that away from them? Can you tell me that? How can you be so heartless? So cruel? Is that what you really think? Or is it the blood-lust stirring in your veins that makes you lash out so irrationally?" Penelope sat, breathing heavily, waiting for Dean to come up with an answer to her impassioned speech.

"Listen..", Dean tried to amend after a brief silence, "I didn't mean- It's just- I eat a cheese burger at least every day or two. I need meat. It's the one good thing in my life that always stays the same, you know? Sam goes AWOL.. the impala gets totalled.. someone you care about.. well, they aren't there anymore, and the day just keeps shittin' on ya', but the one thing that fixes all that, faster and better than anything, is a grease ball burger, a coke and some homemade pie. Not being able to have that.. I don't know what that world is like, and, to be honest, I hope to never have to know that world."

"Well.. pie is still okay", Penelope relented. "I love pie."

"Thank god", Dean sighed with relief. "Okay, I guess I'll have to deal for now."

"And you might want to buy a bag of almonds or walnuts or something to keep your energy up", Penelope added as an after thought. "I never go anywhere without almonds. I'll give you my debit and credit pins, but only if you promise not to over charge the accounts."

"Wait, why would you trust me with your pin numbers?", Dean asked in confusion. He'd never trust anyone with his.

"How else are you supposed to pay for that lunch you've been planning to order?", Penelope pointed out shrewdly. "Think about it, sunshine."

Dean gulped. He hadn't even thought of that.

Penelope held her borrowed hand over the receiver. "Do you have a computer around here?", she asked Bobby, who was tidying up near by.

"Ah, Sam might", Bobby answered after a moments thought. "Sam!"

Sam came jogging into the room. "Yeah?"

"You have a laptop, right?", Bobby asked.

"Yeah, you need it?"

"'She' does", Bobby gestured to the smiling 'Dean'.

"Okay, I'll go get it", and he jogged back out of the room. Sam reappeared moments later with his laptop tucked underneath his right arm.

"Here you go", Sam offered, handing the laptop to the Penelope with Dean's face.

"Thanks", Penelope grinned warmly.

Sam just nodded. It was so weird, knowing that it wasn't his brother looking at him through those eyes.

Once Penelope had accessed Sam's system, she began the process of stripping it down and installing a new system to better suit her needs.

Sam and bobby watched in awe as Dean's fingers, once so clunky and suited to more brawny tasks, flew across the laptop keyboard with careful precision.

"Bye-bye, windows", Penelope muttered aloud, deleting the offensive software. "Hello Linux", she smirked, hitting the enter button and watching with satisfaction as the new system began to install itself. After the installation was complete, and quickly customized, she wasted no time in opening various tabs and windows and quietly remote accessing her system at Quantico to monitor for any trouble. "All set up", she chirped into Bobby's phone. "Looks like nothing too frightening is happening so far, but I'll keep you updated."

"Good", Dean mumbled around a mouthful of homemade apple pie.

"The pin numbers for my debit and credit respectively are 7118 and 3912. Good luck out there."

"Roger that", Dean affirmed, ending the call and attacking the pie with true earnest.

[a/n: at last! i finished this blasted chapter! thank heavens! i had most everything else figured out, meaning what direction i wanted to take, all except this frickin' diner chapter and that's the one that stopped me cold. go figure. anyway, i hope everyone's not too mad. love y'all. peace.] [PS: i happened on the song at the beginning by accident. i didn't even know it was on my mp3 player until it started blaring in my ears. it's definitely worth a listen.. or ten listens...]


	13. Chapter 13

[a/n: okay. i'm back. again.. i wish i wasn't so bad at finishing things that i start and giving regular updates.. oh well, at least when it's done it'll be done and hopefully the guilt will lift. love y'all. peace.]

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CRIMINAL MINDS, SUPERNATURAL, OR ANY COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL HERE IN...

Derek was livid. He struggled with his bonds as his hazy head throbbed and his eyes stung. Lord knew he would never hit a women, but damn! His Penelope was gonna get an ear-full when he next got a hold of her! After a few more minutes of struggling and a furious snarl, he was free. He scrambled to his feet and swayed on the spot, almost landing on his ass again. The anger took over, clearing his head and steadying his steps as he whipped out his cellphone and hit the number three contact on his speed dial.

"Hotch? It's Morgan", he began immediately after he heard the ringing stop and someone pick up. "Listen, you gotta get down here. Something seriously messed up is goin' on.."

Derek listened to his boss' questions as he squinted through his skull wracking pain.

"Naw, I can't drive right now. You'll have to come here. She hit me in the head with somethin' and knocked me out.."

Derek listened to more questions as the worry in Hotch's tone of voice increased.

"I'm at Penelope's... Yeah! I know! And she tied me up!... What? No! It wasn't like that-! Hotch, there's somethin' really wrong with her! She thought she was some guy named Dean!... Hotch, please! Just get down here!.."

Derek breathed a sigh of relief as Hotch assured him the team were on their way.

"Thanks", he huffed in a tired sigh, ending the call and glaring around Penelope's apartment. At first glance, he could tell she was already gone. The door was even slightly ajar. And all he could think was why.. Why had this happened to her? Why had this happened to him? Why?

/space/

Dean heard his new cellphone buzzing away in the passenger seat, so he snatched it up and flipped it open. "Yello-ha", he greeted cheerily, thoroughly enjoying Penelope's boat of a car.

"Uh, Dean?" It was Sam and he sounded worried.

"Yeah, What's up?", Dean asked, gripping the wheel a little tighter, 'his' heart pumping slightly faster.

"We've got trouble", Sam answered, surveying his new pimped out laptop's screen. "Garcia hacked into the surveillance system for her team's division and it looks like they all just got up at once and left a few minutes ago.

"Shit..", Dean swore, an uneasy feeling beginning to crawl beneath his skin. "So, in other words, macho man Morgan woke up and just called in the cavalry.."

"Looks like it", Sam agreed with regret.

"Well then.. I guess it's time to see how fast this tank-mobile can fly..", Dean growled determinedly, pushing the pedal to the floor and holding her steady. "Call me when you know more."

"You got it", Sam agreed, hitting the end call button on Bobby's phone.

[a/n: more to come.]


	14. Chapter 14

[a/n: the whistle that gets mentioned in this chapter is the one from L.D.S.K that morgan gives reid when he fails his gun qualifications. reid hands it back to morgan at the end of the episode when he effectively eliminates the unsub with a shot to the head. now reid is having a laugh at morgan using the whistle. hope you enjoy. much love. peace.]

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CRIMINAL MINDS, SUPERNATURAL, OR ANY COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL HERE IN...

"Oh wow..", Emily breathed as she took in the swelling and leaking cut above Derek's left eye, being the first to arrive on the scene. "You weren't kidding when you said she knocked you out, huh?"

Derek glared at his fellow agent in hostility. "What on earth do you think I meant?", he demanded to know.

Emily grinned slyly. "Well.." Her grin faded as she noted that Derek couldn't be joked out of his current mood. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Nope."

"Now that's a war wound", Dave jibbed as he arrived moments later.

"I wouldn't push it, Rossi", Emily warned, shaking her head. "She knocked the warm fuzzies right out of him."

"Guys! It's not funny!", Derek barked, his pride hurting just as much as his head at the moment.

"Ah, come on!", J.J. Mock-soothed as she entered the apartment with Reid following close behind. "Big tough guy like you? Hit over the head and tied up like a prized calf? By a petite little vegetarian who wouldn't hurt a fly? I'm sorry, but that's hilarious."

"No, it certainly is not!", Derek argued.

"Actually, Morgan, it is kinda a tad bit funny..", Hotch commented as he breezed by him, the last to arrive.

"Oh, you'll probably be wanting this", Reid grinned smugly, pulling the infamous whistle from his pocket and flinging it at Derek. "Hope you don't mind. I picked it up from your desk before we all left."

"Pretty boy..", Derek growled the threat, clinching the whistle in his fist, then giving in at last to the much needed relief of a small smile. "I'm totally gonna murder you.."

"Well, let's all hope that was a remark made in jest, because we may need him", Hotch smirked, placing his brief case onto Penelope's coffee table, and taking a seat in one of her comfy chairs. "What exactly happened?"

The team all took seats around Penelope's living room as Derek began to explain his bizarre situation.

"I knew something was wrong as soon as I called her this morning. She sounded.. weird. Not even weird-sick.. like weird- I dunno.. not 'her', if that makes any sense, and so I told you I needed to step out-"

"And I guessed why, and we only had paperwork to do, so I let you go", Hotch nodded.

"Yeah.. Thanks for that, by the way", Derek thanked his boss sincerely.

Hotch waved his hand for Derek to continue and think no more of it.

"Okay. So I decided to take her some breakfast to cheer her up. And the second thing that set off alarm bells in my head was when I actually saw her. For one thing, she had a can of pam cooking spray in one hand and a lighter in the other and nearly barbecued me-"

The rest of the team exchanged looks with each other- That was odd..

"Secondly, she cursed like a.. well, like a guy. And I'm not talking the usual cute little substitute curses, I'm talking mouth like a sailor curses- And thirdly.." Derek hesitated in a moment of indecision. How much should he tell them about the way she had looked? The more Derek thought about it, the more undecided he became. She had looked fine. Damn fine. Beyond damn fine, and though he knew it was absurd to be thinking with his other head at a time like this, he couldn't stop his wicked brain from pulling up the image of her and plastering it over everything else.

"And thirdly.. What?", J.J. asked, urging him to continue on, completely innocent to his inner turmoil.

"She looked.. different", Derek managed after wrestling with his brain a few seconds longer.

"Like.. Sick? Gross? Sad?", Emily asked.

"Like bed-head, red lipstick, black top, leather jacket and... denim jeans", Derek tried hard not to sigh at the end as he finished his list. This wasn't helping him stay objective.

"Wait- Jeans?", J.J. Asked, her features crinkling in confusion. "Does Garcia even own jeans?"

"Apparently", Emily shrugged.

"What gets me is, how any one of you can still be surprised by anything she does after all these years", Rossi remarked, checking his pocket watch absentmindedly.

"She is unique", Hotch agreed, dwelling momentarily, then bringing the topic back to the business at hand. "but what lead her to knocking you unconscious and tying you up?"

"Yes, do tell", J.J. smirked, exchanging a conspiratory glance with Emily.

Derek wasn't smiling. This part is the part that had him worried the most. "I asked her to tell me what was wrong, and the answers she gave me- It was like she didn't know me at all. I've never had that with her. Not even from the very first time we met. And then she told me she was someone named Dean Winchester and that freaked me the fuck out-"

"That doesn't make any sense", Reid puzzled aloud. "Garcia has had no prior proclivities towards schizophrenia that I noticed.. What might have initiated her psychosis?"

"I'm not sure", Derek shrugged, trying to shake the incredible sadness that was slowly falling over him. "She got a phone call on her cell. It sounded to me like whoever it was was feeding her delusion. I tried to grab her so she wouldn't bolt, but I was too late. She ran into her washroom and locked the door."

"Someone one was feeding her delusion?", Reid asked, his natural curiosity showing itself.

"Sounded like it", Derek nodded. "I couldn't make out the words, but the voice on the other end was definitely male. She conned me like a pro", he sighed ruefully. "Fake tears and all. I let my guard down, and next thing I knew, I was wrapped up in a shower curtain with my arms and legs hog-tied and nursing one monstrous headache."

Derek's words worried the team immensely.

"How do you want to handle this?", Hotch asked inevitable question.

Derek shook his head, at a loss. "I dunno, Hotch. We have to find her. When I woke up, she was gone and her car keys were missing. I have no idea what her current mental state is. I never expected anything like this to happen.."

"None of us did", Hotch tried to reassure his subordinate. "We can assume she is a possible threat to the public, based on what she did to you, so perhaps it would be best if we alerted the media."

Derek looked fearful for Penelope's safety, so Hotch added, "We'll say that she's missing and in a fragile state of mind. We'll tell them it is alright to approach her as long as she doesn't feel threatened, and to contact a hot-line number we will provide the second she is spotted."

Derek nodded in agreement. That sounded alright to him.

"In the meantime, I want everyone going through their contacts", Hotch ordered. "Pull favors, sweet talk, threaten- I don't care what you do, just find out everything you can. Got it?"

They all nodded in grim determination.

"Alright. Let's get to work."

[a/n: oh dear. looks like there's a man/women hunt in the future for our poor body swapped victims..]


	15. Chapter 15

[a/n: this chapter. finally. can you die from exhaustion? i hope not...]

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CRIMINAL MINDS, SUPERNATURAL, OR ANY COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL HERE IN...

Dean couldn't keep 'his' eyes open any longer. Normally when he had to get some shut eye, he'd trust Sam with the keys to the impala for a few hours while he rested up. He really wished that was an option right now. He pulled over at the first decent looking motel and paid for a room with some money he'd taken out of Penelope's bank account under her instruction. He felt like punching the creepy old motel manager in the face for the way he was eyeing his host-body, but was able to resist. He wasn't sure how strong this chick was, and didn't want to risk damaging her meat-suit. Dean smiled politely while grinding 'his' teeth as the manager finally handed over the room's key.

"Let me know if you need anything", the old man leered greasily.

'I'd rather be eaten alive by a ghoul', Dean thought violently, as he continued to force his smile, backing out of the motel door and returning to the cool, dark night. "Fuuuuuck..", Dean shivered, adjusting Penelope's leather jacket and rolling his borrowed shoulders. "No wonder girls think all men are pigs. I'm gonna need at least three showers to get off all the slime his eye balls left behind. Grodie!"

That suddenly brought up a thought that made him freeze where he stood. Getting her body dressed was one thing- there was minimal contact involved –showering would be a whole different ball game.

The sound of wolves howling near by broke him out of his consuming train of thought. He shook 'his' head, cursing inwardly, as he hurried the remaining distance to his room. This was ridiculous. When the chips were down- and they were definitely down –he could be professional and strictly business. He wasn't the best at that type of thing, granted, but he could muddle through. No sweat! Yeah.. sure..

Penelope felt like her metaphorical heart would shatter as she she watched the news feed of her team pleading with her to come home safely and peacefully. She wasn't sure which one of them made her want to cry more- JJ- as she tried to hold back her own tears while delivering an accurate description, Hotch- taking over for JJ when it became too much for her and using the kindest tone of voice she had ever heard him use to urge the public to come forward with any information that may be useful to the FBI's investigation, Derek- holding up photos the team had taken of her over the years and explaining how wonderful a person she was, and promising that they would find her soon and help her come home, Rossi- silently tearing up in the background, or Strauss and Emily- with an arm each around Reid, while he hung his head helplessly. If she was upset at her current situation, her team seemed to be a million times more upset.

Sam, seated next to her on Bobby's couch, stared at the tv screen in awe. "Wow.. I'm so sorry, Garcia."

Penelope shrugged, rubbing at the corners of 'her' eyes. "It wasn't your fault. You guys were just doing your jobs. You were trying to make the world a safer place. So that something like this wouldn't happen to someone else. I can understand that. It's what my team and I try to do too."

"I suppose you could look at it that way", Sam nodded in agreement.

"I don't really have any other way to look at it", Penelope admitted. "If I let any negativity get in, I might lose it and crack up. Then what use would I be?"

Sam clapped a comforting hand on Penelope's borrowed shoulder. "We'll get you back to your own body. Bobby's speciality is looking up the obscure. If anyone can find it, it's him."

Penelope allowed herself a small smile. She didn't know these people, but she felt she could somehow trust them, and they were being super accommodating and sweet. "What can I do to help?"

"You're doing it", Sam assured her. "Monitoring your team is essential. They'll lock us all away if they catch up to us."

"I do not doubt that", Penelope sighed, checking on the security feed from Quantico with a few deft key strokes. "Just look at them.. They're so frantic. Searching and searching.. I feel so guilty-" Just as the last syllable left 'her' lips, a feeling flooded her senses suddenly, and she sat bolt upright on Bobby's couch, frozen in panic.

Alarm bells went off in Sam's mind. "What's wrong?", he asked, fear causing his heart to race. "Garcia? Garcia!"

"I-.. I feel-..", Penelope stuttered, holding up Dean's left hand and regarding it with frightened awe. "Sort of-.. warm. Wait, not warm- hot. Like a weird fever that starts at the top of my head and flows down to my toes. It's the most messed up sensation, like, ever. Do you think it could be a side effect of the switch?"

Sam shrugged, wishing he could be more helpful. "I'm really not sure. We'll know more when Bobby finds the information we need. Are you in pain?"

"No", Penelope shook 'her' head slowly and thoughtfully. "It's like.. pleasant. Not a burning.. more like- this is gonna sound crazy, but it's like a hot shower only without the water part. It's starting to trip me out."

Sam thought for a moment. "I have a theory. I'm gonna call Dean." He grabbed his cell and dialled the number his brother had sent him a few hours previously. He waited a good seven minutes before Dean finally picked up. "Yeah?", he barked into the receiving end of the phone he'd bought for emergencies.

"Hey, it's me", Sam greeted. "Listen, something strange is going on with Penelope, and we were wondering whether you were having the same kind of problems or not."

A shiver of fear and concern ran down Dean's borrowed spine. "What's wrong with her? -Me? -Her? -What's wrong?"

"Hold on a sec, I'll let her explain", Sam instructed his brother, passing the phone to Penelope.

"Hey", she offered awkwardly, still finding it odd having a conversation with herself, but not really herself.

"Hi", Dean acknowledged, thinking along the same lines. "Sam said there was some kind of trouble?"

"Yeah, I had this weird sort of fever sensation a few minutes ago. It seems to be gone now though. Have you been getting any strange 'vibes' on your end?"

Dean shook 'his' head. "Nope. I feel fine. Aside from a few layers of dust from some winding back roads, I'm peachy." Dean hesitated, struggling with the words to tell her about needing to take a shower. It was something the average person took for granted when they were in their own skin.

"Wait, were you just having a- a shower?", Penelope stuttered, 'her' cheeks becoming bright red with embarrassment.

Sam had never seen his brother blush before, and although he knew this was hardly the time for it, he had to suppress his laughter at the sight.

"Well, yeah. I mean, it's not a big deal, right?", Dean muttered defensively, shifting uncomfortably and pulling the motel towel closer around his borrowed body. "I mean, I'm going to get dirty- We're going to get dirty -And I don't know about you, but I like to keep looking and smelling half decent.

"But-", Penelope tried to argue, but Dean interrupted.

"Look, I know what you're going to say, and yeah, it's super hinky, but it's a function of normal life, and until we get our bodies back, we're gonna have ta just deal. If it makes you feel any better, I can't really see anything without your glasses, and I bought one of those sponge on a stick things from the all night convenience down the road, so no hands were involved."

Penelope felt a tiny surge of gratitude towards Dean for being that considerate. Who said chivalry was dead?

"Loofah", she grinned.

"What?", Dean blinked, confused.

"The sponge on a stick- It's called a loofah", she explained.

"Oh, uh, that's probably why the store clerk had a hard time understanding me. I guess chicks are supposed to know that stuff, huh?"

"Yeah", Penelope chuckled. "We generally do."

"So... you're okay now? We're good?", Dean asked, figuratively crossing his fingers.

"I guess", Penelope shrugged. "Just because the keys've switched hands, it doesn't mean the new driver can stop being responsible."

"Well put", Dean nodded in agreement. "So, no eyeing my junk", he half-joked.

Penelope laughed. "I'll try. No promises."

"Fair enough", Dean smirked cheekily. "See ya soon, body snatcher."

"Sweet dreams and safe travels", Penelope farewelled, ending the call.

"So, the sensation you felt was Dean taking a shower in your body?", Sam asked.

Penelope nodded. "That's what it seems to be. I wonder why though. I didn't feel anything else all this time, and it stopped almost as soon as it started."

"Maybe we should go ask Bobby if he's found out anything", Sam suggested, standing from the couch. "And even if he hasn't, this new attribute might help him narrow the field of search."

"Sounds good to me", Penelope nodded, rising from the couch as well and following Sam to Bobby's library.

"Bobby?", Sam asked, peering around stacks of dusty old tombs, trying to locate the salvage mechanic.

"Back here", came Bobby's muffled voice from the general direction of his desk.

Sam had to carefully ease four columns of books to the side before Bobby's face poked into view.

"I meant to come get ya an hour ago, but this stuff is so damn fasinatin'. Pull up a chair for you n' the miss, n' I'll tell ya what I got so far."

Once Penelope and Sam were seated, Bobby began his tale.

"The official name is transposition. Accordin' to what I can gather, it's been going down since the caveman days in one form or another. Now, there was this kinda off shoot a' voo-doo magic way back in the day that were heavy inta the use a' idols in their magical practices. I focused on them n' got a hit- the idol described in the text sounds a lot like the one we got."

"What did it say?", Penelope asked, enthralled in his storytelling ability.

"The idol was given to couples who were ta be married on the night a' their engagement," Bobby explained. "It was blessed by a priestess, and was meant to bring harmony n' a long n' happy love life to the pair."

"Does that mean.. I have to marry Dean?", Penelope asked, horrified. I mean, his original body was handsome- sure, but she barely knew the guy!

"That's just it", Bobby frowned. "That part don't make sense. You two ain't connected as far as we know, n' the procedure says the couple must each be holdin' the idol. It also don't say anythin' about the angry whirly thing that nearly chomped my head off when we tried to exorcise it."

"What about the balls of light?", Sam asked.

"That part fits", Bobby nodded, flipping through the notes he'd made. "That'd be the transposition spell. The idea was that the couple would spend a while in each other's shoes n' really get a feel for how they each experienced life. When the weddin' day came, they would switch back n' have a better sense of respect and understanin' for their partner."

"That's kinda incredibly romantic", Penelope sighed dreamily.

"Unless the magic goes bad, n' you're suck in someone else's skin for the rest of you're life", Bobby pointed out.

"Fuzzy feelings gone", Penelope gulped, panic searing 'her' insides again.

"So, we need both of them to switch them back?", Sam asked.

"Nothin's certain now that we know the spell didn't act like it's supposed ta", Bobby replied gravely, shaking his head. "We can give it a try, but this stuff is tricky. They could both end up worse than they are now. I still feel like I'm missin' somethin'. I'll do more diggin' while we wait for Dean to show up. In the mean time, all we can do is hope.. n' pray."

[a/n: more to come. love y'all. peace~*]


	16. Chapter 16

[a/n: mmm, mmm! fresh chapter! there's nothing better for a hungry mind. :) hope y'all enjoy.]

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CRIMINAL MINDS, SUPERNATURAL, OR ANY COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL HERE IN..

The next morning found Dean staring intently at the make up display in a drug store. He'd forgotten to take the effing lipstick with him, and all the other remnants of make up that Penelope had had on before they'd switched bodies had washed away in his late night shower. He's rather not have to any of the gunk on- he thought he looked fine, but the old ladies in the room next door had looked at him funny when he'd left the motel that morning, which made him believe he was all wrong. Dean had some powered stuff called foundation, a jarring tube of lipstick, and the weird eyelash stuff with the little brush inside in one hand, and about five different unknown products in the other. He could feel the cashier staring at him from where she sat behind the counter and it made him even more nervous. After about ten more minutes, he couldn't take it any more and went to the register with his purchases. The cashier continued to stare for a few more minutes before opening her mouth to speak, but Dean cut across her comment.

"Look, I know, okay? Would ya just give me a break and ring in the damn things? I've never had to do this stuff before!"

"Um.. Actually I was just going to ask if you would be participating in our free make over promotion we're having this week..", the cashier continued hesitantly. "We haven't had any customers willing to give it a try yet, and you have wonderful skin, so you'd make a great demonstration subject."

Dean looked to a sign the cashier was pointing to, and read the truth of the matter there. "Oh." now he felt like a jerk. "I'm sorry. I thought-"

"That I was about to make a rude comment?", the clerk asked, smiling kindly. "Didn't cross my mind. Would you like to take a seat at the end of the counter?"

"Sure", Dean grinned back, leaving the items he'd come for forgotten.

The cashier, whose name it turned out was Anna, took him through the step by step process of the different make ups, which order they were to be applied in, which were the simplest to use, and which tones and styles matched him the best.

"I always wondered why there were so many different little buggers to choose from, now I guess I know why", Dean smiled gratefully on his tutor.

"Why didn't your mother ever teach you?", Anna asked, smoothing and blending all the while.

Dean's smile fell away. "My mom died when I was four. That left dad and me and my little brother."

Anna paused, her expression apologetic and sympathetic. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"That's okay. She's gone. Nothing I can do about it now", Dean muttered, waving off her pity.

"Still, that's a hard thing", Anna tutted, shaking her head and continuing her work.

"Yeah, it was", Dean sighed, reflecting on his past. "Hard really don't even cover it."

Anna gave Dean a consoling pat on his borrowed shoulder and a look that communicated volumes.

"Enough about my sad sap story", Dean grinned forcibly. "What about you?"

Anna explained that she was working at the drug store to put herself through cosmetology school. "I have this stupid little dream that maybe one day, I'll be on a movie set, painting up the leading lady or something."

"Big dream", Dean commented, impressed.

"Yeah, it's not like it'll ever happen though. I'll still be stuck in this little town. Which is fine! I mean, I love it, in a way. It's my home, but.." she got a starry glaze in her eyes as she continued. "It would be so wonderful, if just for a moment, I could make somebody like that shine."

Dean was touched by Anna and her dream. They were the smallest things, but they were beautiful. "I don't think your dream is stupid", he said earnestly.

Anna smiled warmly. "Well, you're the first one."

"No really", Dean assured her. "You should go for it with everything you got."

Anna shyed away from the encouragement. "I think you better wait til after I'm done with you before you go jumping to any conclusions."

"Well, give us a mirror then", Dean demanded, placing 'his' hands on his borrowed hips.

"I'm not done yet!", Anna giggled, reaching for more supplies.

"Fine. I'll wait, but I know I'm right", Dean mock-huffed.

"We'll see", Anna grinned, as she began to apply the eye make up.

After about fifteen more minutes and even a nice hair do, Anna relinquished a mirror to Dean.

Dean thought 'his' smile was going to go past his borrowed ears. "Damn! I look hot!"

"I guess I did alright", Anna smiled modestly.

"No seriously. This is premo work! Great job!", Dean congratulated her.

"It wasn't that hard", Anna brushed off. "And besides, now you're going to have to buy all the make up I used if you want to keep up appearances."

"Well played", Dean smiled ruefully, digging in Penelope's leather jacket for some cash.

"Thank you", Anna grinned proudly, striding back behind her cash to ring in Dean's new items.

When the transaction was complete, they said their good-byes and wished each other luck.

Anna turned back to the program she had been previously watching on the tv below the counter, only to find it had been interrupted by a news bulletin. She rolled her eyes and was about to change the channel when she froze. That was her! That was blonde customer that had just left her store! She turned up the volume on the monitor and listened closely.

"The FBI is still on the hunt for one of their own after she went missing under strange circumstances some time yesterday", the news caster reported in an official clipped tone. "The technical analyst, one Miss Penelope Garcia, is described by her co-workers as friendly and harmless, but seeming to suffer some kind of mental block. She may currently be under an assumed name and unaware of who she really is. The FBI is urging the public to come forward with any information they may have regarding this disappearance. The hotline number they have allocated can be found at the bottom of your tv screens.."

Anna snatched up the store phone and quickly dialled the number given. She turned the sound back down on the monitor as she waited impatiently for someone to answer.

"Hello, this is the FBI hotline regarding the disappearance of technical analyst Penelope Garcia. Special agent Derek Morgan speaking, how can I help you?", said the voice that finally picked up Anna's call. She could tell, even through all the professional wording, that he was bone-tired.

"Um, Hi. M-my name is Anna Stewart. I'm calling from Indiana state. I think the woman you're l-looking for just left the store here."

Derek's heart skipped a few beats as hope began to rise in his chest. "Can you describe her to me?"

"Uh.. sure", Anna nodded. "She was mussed up when she came in looking for some make up. Kinda looked like she'd just got up this morning and come straight here. I helped her out because our store is doing this promotion and her skin was great and she seemed nice- anyway, when I'd straightened her out, she looked a lot like your missing analyst. Only problem is, I didn't know she was missing until she left the store, else I woulda hung onto her."

"What was she wearing?", Derek asked.

"A black top, a leather jacket, and some blue jeans", Anna answered.

Derek stood quickly from his office chair, motioning for his boss as he passed by. "How long ago did she leave?"

"Only a few minutes ago", Anna replied, then added anxiously. "I gotta tell ya.. I really think it's her."

"Can you give me the address for your store?", Derek asked, grabbing his pre-packed go-bag from under his desk with one hand, and writing the address down with the other. "Uh huh.. Thank you so much, Anna. We'll be there soon." Derek ended the call before Anna was even aware of it.

"Was that a lead?", Hotch asked, hope now stirring in his eyes.

"She was at a drug store in Indiana. Hotch, I got a gut feeling about this one", Derek pleaded with his eyes.

"Wheels up in fifteen", Hotch nodded, striding away to locate the rest of the team and notify them.

"We're coming for you, baby girl", Derek whispered aloud. "We're coming."

[a/n: oh no. this doesn't bode well for poor dean..]


	17. Chapter 17

[a/n: just a side note, the character anna stewart is named after a crew member from criminal minds, and my ex boss from my previous job.]

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CRIMINAL MINDS, SUPERNATURAL, OR ANY COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL HERE IN..

Anna shifted from foot tot foot nervously as she watched the FBI agents from Quantico crawl all over the store. Her manager had been called in from vacation and was glaring at her behind the backs of the agents. She had no doubt she was getting written up for this, no matter what her boss promised the feds.

"Miss Stewart?", asked a voice she recognized, causing her to turn. "I'm special agent Derek Morgan. We spoke on the phone?"

Anna's panic increased ten fold at the sight of the handsome agent, and she was stricken speechless. She barely managed to nod.

Derek took pity on the poor girl, she looked terrified. "Why don't we go to the end of the counter there, away from all the noise, so we can talk about what you saw?", he suggested gently.

Anna nodded again, and they proceeded towards the very spot Dean had sat merely an hour ago. "She looked so.. lost", Anna mumbled, finally finding her voice as she sat. "There was something.. lost about her. Like she didn't belong somehow. Does that make any sense?"

Derek nodded. "People suffering personality breaks will sometimes experience moments of clarity, remembering their former selves, and then fall back into the delusion just as quickly."

Anna thought that sounded wrong. It was more like the initial switch had happened, and whoever she was, was trying to get back to it's previous state. "I don't think she wants to be.. whoever she is. I think she knows she's backwards and is trying to put things right. I didn't say anything to her about it when she was here. I figured it was none of my business if she didn't bring it up."

"What did you talk with her about?", Derek asked.

"Mostly make up", Anna answered, shrugging. "I did most of the talking. I told her about work and school.. Oh! There was one thing.."

Derek perked up at that. "What was it?"

"I asked her why her mother had never taught her to use make up, and then I felt horrible because she told me her mother died when she was four years old, leaving only her dad and her little brother."

A look of confusion furrowed Derek's brow. "She doesn't have a brother, and both of her parents died when she was eighteen."

Anna blinked blankly at the special agent. "Oh.. that's- still awful, but not what she told me. Why would she lie?"

"She seems to have built herself an elaborate fantasy world", Derek sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, trying to work out the stress related aches. "For reasons we don't yet understand, she's become a completely different person. I'm going to have to ask you not to share the details of this with anyone."

"Yeah, sure", Anna nodded, studying the weary agent. He looked kind of.. broken. Like he was just barely holding himself together. She reached out a gentle hand and placed it on Derek's arm. "Hey, whoever she thinks she is, she was sweet and kind to me, so.. I mean, that's something, right? She's still a good person."

Derek gave Anna a small grateful smile. "Thank you."

Anna smiled warmly back at agent Morgan. "When I saw the news bulletin with her in it, I knew I had to call right away. Someone that good deserves to remember they're loved and wanted."

"Agreed.. Thank you for your time, Miss Stewart," Derek nodded, walking back towards Hotch with Anna's information. "The cashier says Penelope was fairly docile and kind towards her."

"Well, that's something", Hotch sighed, silently thanking the powers that be. "Did she mention noticing if she seemed lucid or not?"

Derek shook his head. "She wasn't as far as I can tell. The girl said she looked lost, and that she gave off a feeling of being 'backwards'. Penelope also talked about a brother and a father, and the much earlier death of her mother, and she needed to re-learn about cosmetic items and applications."

They both exchanged a worried look. They feared how deep this new psychosis went, and how far away the old Penelope was.

"JJ just called a few minutes ago and said there's a motel owner a few miles down the road who called in with a similar description", Hotch offered, trying to relieve the suppressed panic he knew they both felt. "We might be able to discern more there."

Derek didn't waste any more time; He thanked the manager and the clerk once more and left them his FBI issued card, then he sprinted out of the store towards his suv. The fire was again alight. The hunt had resumed.

[a/n: this chapter will have to do until i work out the kinks in the next chapter. there are some plot holes to fill and patch up that i haven't quite conquered yet. stay tuned. love y'all. peace.]


	18. Chapter 18

[a/n: sorry for the small chapters. this is the middle bit, and the middle bits of my stories tend to get quite 'choppy', here meaning carved up into smaller pieces and not very meaty story-wise. i hope to churn out longer ones soon. love y'all. peace.]

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CRIMINAL MINDS, SUPERNATURAL, OR ANY COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL HERE IN..

"Don't even think about it", Bobby growled good-naturedly, as Penelope in Dean's body tried to sneak past him for the seventh time in so many hours. "Dean barely lets his own brother drive that car."

Penelope didn't even try to deny her guilt in the matter. "Argh! I feel so useless, Bobby! I feel restless! I need to get out and do something about this!"

"You're not useless", Bobby tried to assure her. "You're helpin' plenty. Definitely more 'n that sorry kid that's stuck in your skin. We wouldn't even be in this damn mess if it weren't for that idjiot."

"What?", Penelope asked, surprised.

"Dean touched the idol a'fore I could check if it was safe", Bobby explained, flipping through a rather ancient and brittle looking tomb, trying to narrow down their search.

Penelope tried to identify how she felt about this new information. She decided it worried her greatly. "Does this happen often then?", she asked carefully, trying not to let her worry enter 'her' tone of voice. "Things going wrong on accident, and innocent people getting caught in the crossfire?"

Bobby gave her question serious thought for a moment, then went back to his research. "Now that ya mention it, that pretty much sums up everythin'. We haven't had a transposition 'afore though. Nearest we came 'afore was a powerful agin' curse that was nearly the end a' Dean."

"Aren't there like, protections or something, against that kind of thing?", Penelope gulped, unable to hide her worry any longer.

"Well, yeah, we are the protection", Bobby answered, confused by what she meant. "Us hunters can only do so much though. We try to kill the damn things 'afore they get someone, but it's hard ta catch 'em when they stay quiet and don't show th'mselves."

"But.. wouldn't they, you know, be.. famous? Noticeable? Someone's gotta realize horrible things happening to people and , I dunno, put up warnings or something", Penelope asked, beginning to think Bobby was talking about something else besides cursed objects.

Bobby scoffed at the very idea. "You'd be amazed at what regular folk choose to ignore. Take vampire victims, f'r example: they exam the body 'n find an extra set of razor sharp teeth embedded in the gum-line, and what do they do? Call it a 'strange abnormality' and try and bury the effin' thing. Bloody nightmare.."

Penelope blanched. "Vampires? Nobody said anything about vampires! Vampires are real?"

Bobby only realized his slip too late. "Ah..."

"What else is real?!", she shrieked, making Dean's voice go as high as it would go.

"Now listen-", Bobby started, trying his best to calm her.

"Sam told me you were relic hunters!", Penelope fretted, beginning to pace back and forth. "He didn't mention monsters!"

"He was just looking out for ya", Bobby tried again, to no avail. "You don't need to worry about it. You're safe here. Sam and I'll protect ya."

"Yes, you'll protect me because I'm in Dean's body", Penelope scoffed, rolling her eyes and pacing faster. "What happens when I return to my body? What happens if I ever return to my team? Will they just welcome me back with open arms? Will they ever trust me again? Will they lock me away? Who knows? I don't! Before, the only things I had to worry about were the bad guys- Catch the bad guys, avoid the bad guys- Now, my whole world is inside out! There are such things as magical curses that switch people's bodies! There are such things as monsters! My team has a nation wide manhunt out for a me that's not me and I'm terrified of what comes after all this!", a low sob escaped Penelope's borrowed throat.

Bobby dropped the book he'd been reading, strode over and seized hold of 'Penelope's' shoulders.

"Woah there, princess. Put it in park for a second", Bobby soothed as best he could. It was an odd thing. If this had been Dean, the real Dean, he might have smacked him upside the head to knock some sense into the boy. This, however, was a very emotionally charged woman who would most likely react very badly to a smack upside the head. "First off, we'll protect ya because that's what we do. It's who we are. We're hunters, n' bein' a hunter comes with a certain responsibility. It's not a responsibility that was given ta us by anyone. We took it upon ourselves ta save people from what slinks in the night. All people. Everyone we could. It's us against them. We live in the deep dark so that people like you can carry on livin' normal lives n' never know about any a' this mess. Secondly, when we get ya back in your own body, ya might have a difficult time ahead a' ya, but I don't for one second believe that ya can't handle it. Ya took being switched mighty well, all thin's considered, and that speaks a' strength ta me. Hold onta that. You're gonna need it for awhile yet. Thirdly, yes. There are such things as monsters. We can teach ya about 'em n' what works best to kill 'em if ya like, but I wouldn't recommend it unless ya wanna live in paranoid fear fer the rest a' your born days. Best just to keep dumb about it. N' lastly... It's okay ta be terrified. Ya can't be proper brave at all if ya ain't. We'll work this out. Just have a little faith. No matter what happens, me n' the boys'll always help out a friend. Heck, you're practically family now!"

Bobby beamed kindly and Penelope couldn't help but smile back, tears leaking out of Dean's eyes. "Thank you..", she whispered gratefully.

"Don't thank me yet, we still gotta find that idol ritual history", Bobby sighed, regarding all the books he'd pulled out and sorted into half hazard piles. "Somewhere in this jumbled inky waste is your ticket outta here."

[a/n: bobby's speech was really fun to write. i love his character so much. i often wonder what people think when they read my stories, and if what i write makes them feel anything. if you have a thought you'd like to share, post it in the reviews section or send me a privet message. i'm always looking for new insight and opinions. it helps me keep the writing juices flowing. love y'all. peace.]

[UPDATE: i had an important break through on the next chapter and i couldn't wait until it was finished to say that it's going to probably be one of my best yet. you won't see this coming :) heck, i didn't see it coming, but it's happening and i'm sooooooo excited to share it with everyone! have to get back to writing now, but i'll post soon. i hope it meets approval standards :) love y'all. peace.}


	19. Chapter 19

[a/n: please let me know what you think about this chapter in the reviews section. it's open to anyone. i'm putting a /space/ in to break up the two halves a little bit. love y'all. peace.]

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CRIMINAL MINDS, SUPERNATURAL, OR ANY COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL HERE IN..

Dean pushed the channel changing button furiously on the cabin's remote. Ever since his visit to the pharmacy where he'd talked with that cashier, news coverage in 'the Penelope Garcia manhunt' had increased about three fold. This upswing had forced him into further seclusion; breaking into an unused hunting cabin, for example. It's not that he minded all that much, (he'd been in worse places and predicaments), it was just that his current vessel was definitely not used to living rough. He ached all over, his limbs were stiffening, and the energy he was expending refilled far slower than his own body would have. At last, he gave up on trying to find something decent to watch to pass the time, and tossed the remote aside.

He munched grumpily on the extremely large bag of walnuts he'd bought a few days before the pharmacy incident, and stewed away on plans for the future and reaching bobby's place. Penelope had been correct about eating walnuts or almonds. It seemed to make his host-body very happy whenever he chowed down on them, so he did so at every opportunity. He missed meat so badly. All he could think about, when he wasn't reflecting on his other problems, was all the animals he couldn't eat any more. He remembered her mentioning something about a small amount of fish being alright, but he had no way of attaining any at the moment. If he chanced going to the supermarket, he'd risk being caught and carted away. Fishing himself in the nearby stream was also out of the question. Not only was he not dressed properly, fishing was time consuming, and time was something he was sure he did not have.

He watched the last rays of the sun disappear behind the leaves of the trees on the near valley hill through one of the cabin windows. He was forced to travel at night now and sleep during the day, which he did not like at all. If he had been in his regular body- no problem. He could fight off any reasonable amount of critters. However, he was not in his body, and this borrowed one's strength was yet untested and he was in no hurry to find out his new possible limitations.

Dean sighed heavily and prepared to leave the cabin and head back out onto the road. Just then, his new cell began to ring. "Yo?", he greeted.

"Dean, it's Sam", Sam whispered in hushed tones, sounding out of breath. "Listen, I don't have much time 'cause Bobby and Garcia will be back from the general store soon, and I definitely don't want her hearing this."

"That doesn't sound good..", Dean gulped, feeling a wave of nervous nausea wash over him.

"When you called in this morning with your coordinates, I checked out the entire region through Bobby's contacts. They just got back to me a few minutes ago with some really bad news."

"How bad?", Dean asked, cringing.

Sam was silent for a few heartbeats before answering. "There have been increased bear attacks in your grid point area.. but that's not really what attacked those people."

Dean blanched. "Sonnovabitch.. You don't mean-?"

"Wendigos", Sam confirmed with a heavy heart. "Plural. As in, 'more than one'. They think it must be some kind of nest."

"But they don't nest!", Dean argued, trying desperately to hold back the panic now raging through him.

"Well, apparently, these ones do or have formed a feeding frenzy pack", Sam insisted. "Either way, you gotta get outta there. Now."

Dean's new eyes darted around fearfully. His initial sweep of the cabin hadn't turned up anything beyond some emergency supplies and a few non-perishable food items. With his new keen awareness, he spotted something chalky peeking out from under the cabin's rope rug. He bent down and pulled back the rug to reveal a rather large trap door with a protection sigil drawn over the surface with chalk. A small spark of hope flared in his soul. This wasn't just any hunting cabin; this was 'a hunter's' cabin.

Dean sent a silent pray towards whoever seemed to be watching out for him at the moment, and tried the door. It swung open easily to his great relief. What he saw when he peered inside made him grin from womanly ear to ear.

"Scratch the alarm bells, Sammy", Dean sighed happily into his phone. "I think I'll be just fine."

"Are you sure?", Sam asked, still unsure himself.

Dean hauled two matching crossbows from the shallow hidden storage space and a rather large quiver of kerosene soaked arrow-bolts and admired their peak condition and working order. "Oh yeah. I'm good."

/space/

Emily had just finished delivering Garcia's and Garcia's car's description to the local sheriff who was on duty at the perimeter tonight. Reid had determined, from a few scattered sightings, that Garcia seemed to be heading east for some reason. Hotch had then gotten permission for a five state boarded blockade. So far, they hadn't been successful, and they were running out of allotted time.

"G'night, agent Prentiss!", the friendly, young sheriff farewelled, as she strode back to her suv.

"Happy hunting!", Emily waved in return, pulling her keys out of her pocket and opening the driver's side door. She was just about to haul her tired bones into the vehicle when she felt something. It was like a small jolt. Like something wasn't quite right. Like that feeling a person sometimes gets seconds before a big event. She listened hard to the sounds all around her. There! There it was! Something distant, but coming closer.. a car? Yes, some kind of car's engine. The closer the sound got, the more interesting and odd the sound became. The car sounded to be driving awfully fast, even for a paved road. But wait.. it seemed to be coming from the trees a few yards back from the blockade. A dirt road then. Definitely too fast. Was that crashing, thrashing noise created by the car as well? Must be. What other explanation was there?

Seconds later, the car in question burst from a side road and skidded to a stop cross-wise behind the line of cars leading to the blockade, barring them from exiting the way they had come.

Emily recognized the vehicle immediately. It was Garcia's car! The one she'd just been describing moments before!

"What in the sam hill..?", she heard the sheriff mutter aloud in shock as a blonde haired figure emerged from the vehicle.

Emily stared and stared as the figure hurried towards them. It was almost too surreal for her to believe. As she took in her friend's appearance, her previous joy faded into grave concern.

Penelope was covered in splashes of what looked like blood. She had under-brush stuck in her hair and clothes, and was carrying a verifiable arsenal of weapons. At first glance Emily noted two crossbows, a quiver with some kind of shotgun squeezed in next to the bolts, and a belt of bullets strapped from her left shoulder to her right hip, secured behind her back. She was shouting something and making wild gestures that Emily didn't understand.

Emily strained her ears and finally made out the message. 'get them out of here! These people are in danger! Move!' danger? Could her former friend mean that she herself was the danger? Garcia was the only potential threat she could see. Or was this some imagined danger? A part of her new psychosis? Emily hesitated. Should she pull her weapon? The expression on Garcia's face decided for her- She looked pissed. Emily drew her side arm and so did the sheriff a few paces behind her.

"Penelope, freeze!", Emily barked, levelling the gun with one of the tech's shoulders. "For heaven's sake, don't make me shoot you!"

Dean stopped short and raised his borrowed hands in surrender, laden as they were with the crossbows. "Woah! Easy there! I know how this looks, but you gotta trust me! There are about ten to twenty evil sons a' bitches chasing me down at the moment! You gotta let these people through the barricade now! These suckers are fast and, by the sounds of it, almost here!"

"Drop the weapons!", the sheriff bellowed, moving to stand beside Emily. "Nice and easy-like!"

Dean shook Penelope's head. "Not a chance! Not if you all want to live anyway! Get the civilians out of here! You've got me! Let them through!"

"So you can jump back in your car and escape with them?", the sheriff scoffed, not giving Dean any quarter. "I don't rightly think so!"

Dean roared in frustration. Amateurs! "We don't have time to-!", but his sentence was cut short by feral howling, growling and snarling wendigo's erupting from the trees in a shower of forest debris a few yards away from the road he himself had emerged from.

The sheer shock of the sight made both Emily and the sheriff nearly drop their weapons.

Dean was glad of that, at least, because it allowed him to turn his back on them and load the crossbows with fresh arrows. "Get those people out of here!", he bellowed over his shoulder, gritting his teeth and wading into the fray. "Come here, beautiful! I've got a nice flaming kebab for you!", he taunted the beasts.

"She's gonna get killed!", Emily whispered in horror, turning to the sheriff as her inner battle-mode took over. "Do what she says, sheriff. Open the blockade."

The sheriff didn't need to be told twice. He'd only just started this new job awhile back and he wanted to be as far away from whatever those things were as was humanly possible. If he lead the people to safety, he'd save face and achieve his goal. "Yes, m-ma'am!", he stuttered, scrambling to obey and get gone.

Emily raced towards the writhing mass of creatures, hoping she wasn't too late to help her friend. Emily was surprised and relieved to see that Garcia seemed to be holding her own quite well. Her viciousness frightened her somewhat, however. The Penelope she knew would never behave this violently. What on earth was going on?

Emily quickly realized her gun was pretty much useless when she fired a few rounds into the nearest monster's head. Luckily, Dean managed to sink a fiery arrow in it's back before the thing could swipe her head off.

"Guns don't work!", Dean growled, sinking another arrow into the heart of another wendigo and reloading as fast as he could. That was one plus he had noticed about Penelope's body, her fingers never fumbled and her trigger launch capabilities were lightening fast. His big hands could get in the way sometimes, but her smaller hands were perfect for firing.

"Yeah, I got that!", Emily snapped back, yanking the shotgun out of the quiver without upsetting the arrows, cocking the weapon and firing a flare right between the eyes of one of the wendigos. The creature burst into flames, wailing in pain before it finally fell. Emily held the gun at arms length for a second and did a double take. "What the eff is in this thing?"

"Special incendiary rounds, modified", Dean smirked, shaking his head. "I have some serious respect for the guy who used to own these."

"'Used to'?", Emily asked, swooping around Dean, popping two bullets from the belt he was wearing, and reloading without too much effort.

"I found these supplies in the woods a little ways back", Dean answered, taking down four more nasty ass hats. "Hope the poor bugger is okay."

"With these things? I don't think that's likely", Emily sighed ruefully, grabbing more shells the second time around. "What are they anyway?"

"Wendigos", Dean answered, plugging two more. "Men that were cursed by eating human flesh for extended periods of time. They are expert hunters usually, but these ones are different somehow. They don't seem as smart."

"That's good for us", Emily joked darkly, blasting two to kingdom come.

"Damn right", Dean grinned, wasting another.

They were distracted when an old, beat up, red pick up truck smashed it's way through to them and stopped just short of running them down. A spindly old man leapt from the truck, swinging a rusty shovel with an easy force he didn't look like he should possess, and knocking the wind out of some of the creatures.

"What are you doing?", Dean asked, almost laughing at the sight.

"I was waiting in the line and I'm sorry to say I saw my good-for-nothing grandson leave you ladies here to hold off these hellians, the god damn coward!", the old man replied. "I was shamed into action!"

"Who's your grandson?", Emily asked, puzzled, as they struggled side by side.

"The new sheriff", the old man scoffed, whacking away like mad. "Sheriff my hairy hide!"

"We asked him to open the blockade", Emily tried to defend fairly on the boy's behalf.

"Yeah, but did you ask him to run away with his idiot tail between his legs too?", the old man asked shrewdly.

When Dean and Emily didn't reply, the old man snorted smugly. "I thought not.."

"What's your name?", Dean asked, changing the subject.

"Clemment Calhoone", the old man answered. "Call me Clem. Everyone does."

"Pleased to meet you, Clem", Dean snarled as friendly as he could, as he bludgeoned one of the wendigos with the butt of his crossbow. "I think you'll have better luck with this", he added, handing Clem his second crossbow. "There's two triggers; the bottom most one lights the arrows. The top most one fires. You got it?"

"Easy as pie", Clem leered happily with a thirsty glint in his eyes, removing as many arrows as he could safely hold from Dean's quiver.

"You stick with the shotgun", Dean nodded to Emily. "You seem awesome at it. I'll toss you the rest of the bullets." Dean unclipped the belt in one swift movement and threw it across to Emily.

Emily caught the belt and quickly re-secured it around herself.

For three strangers against the odds, they made a surprisingly kick ass team. They beat back the monsters until the remainder fled back into the trees.

Dean was on the fence wither to chase after them or not because he really needed to get to Bobby's before anything else happened, but he was spared the decision by Clem offering to go in his place.

"Are you sure?", Dean asked, not knowing if the old man was tapped out or not.

"Are you kidding?", Clem winked. "Most fun I've had in years, but if you're really that worried about it, missy, I'll round up some of the boys from town and we'll head out at first light. We'll get the bastard's.. pardon me." He nodded apology to the two woman and they both smirked at each other.

"No offence taken", Dean assured him. "I'll even let you keep the crossbow. You sure earned it."

Clem's eyes lit up like christmas. "You mean it?"

"Absolutely", Dean grinned, nodding. "You can even have most of the rest of the bolts for it."

"Thank you kindly, ma'am", Clem chuckled, accepting his gifts graciously and heading back to his truck with a spring in his step.

"What are you gonna do now?", Emily asked when Clem was out of hearing distance, leaning on the shotgun for support and wishing her heart wasn't still pounding so painfully in her chest.

Dean's borrowed shoulders slumped regretfully. He now recognized this woman as one of the people from 'the manhunt' news feeds, which meant she must be one of Garcia's team members. "I can't go back with you. Not yet. There are things I need to take care of first."

"I can see that", Emily laughed sarcastically, looking around at all the charred wendigo remains. "How did you get mixed up in all this?"

"It's a long story", Dean sighed, letting his crossbow swing uselessly by his host body's side. "And one I don't know if you should hear."

"I just fought off about fifty monsters for you!", Emily snorted indignantly. "I think I deserve some explanation here! And we're family besides! Isn't that what you're always reminding us? Everyone on the team is family?"

Dean sighed again. "You're not gonna like it", he warned. "And you probably won't believe me."

Emily rolled her eyes. "Hello? Monsters, remember? Proper. Actual. Monsters. Give it a shot."

"I'm not Penelope Garcia", Dean stated flatly. "My name is Dean Winchester. I am just some ill-fated dude stuck in your friend's body, okay?"

Emily shook her head. "You're right. I don't buy it."

"Really?", Dean moaned plaintively. "Really? Even after everything? Forget the monsters- You know this Garcia chick! Tell me, am I anything like her?"

"You look like her", Emily pointed out stubbornly, crossing her arms over her chest. "You sound like her. You're driving her car."

"We got switched", Dean ground out as patiently as he could. "I'm in here and she's in my body, and I've been trying to get to her for the last few fucking days, but you FBI are making it really fucking difficult."

Emily hesitated. All evidence considered, a case could be made in dean's defence, but it was beyond crazy to believe it. Then again, she hadn't believed in monsters until mere moments ago.. Emily looked into the eyes that she knew so well. The happy, gentle eyes of Penelope Garcia.. but she found nothing familiar there. There was violence and rage and a great loneliness, but nothing she knew. She glanced away quickly, unable to look any more. "Go", she shivered. "Don't come back until you're right-side-in."

Dean smiled in grateful relief. "I promise I'll find a way to fix this."

"You better", Emily warned, tears welling behind her eyes. "I want that sweet, kind woman back. I want the one without hate burning inside her. The one who wouldn't hurt even her enemies. The one with the heart so big it gets her into trouble sometimes. I want her back. You bring back our sunshine."

Dean nodded grimly. He knew to say anything further on the subject wouldn't comfort the agent right now. "I'm, ah, probably gonna need that shotgun..", Dean hinted lamely. He felt like a complete jerk.

Emily handed him the shotgun and the bullet belt wordlessly.

Dean accepted the items and turned to leave.

And that's when he blacked out.

[a/n: "..Penelope was covered in splashes of what looked like blood. She had under-brush stuck in her hair and clothes, and was carrying a verifiable arsenal of weapons. At first glance Emily noted two crossbows, a quiver with some kind of shotgun squeezed in next to the bolts, and a belt of bullets strapped from her left shoulder to her right hip, secured behind her back.." i wish i had a picture of penelope (dean) all decked out in weapons. i would frame it and hang it on may wall for all to see :). clem was a plot device i used to allow dean to leave after the fighting was done. i knew dean's character would want to hunt down all the wendigos so that they wouldn't hurt anyone ever again.]

UPDATE: i won't be able to post for a few days because i'm going somewhere that doesn't have any internet access. that's why i stayed up all night finishing this chappy. i will keep writing though, only it might have to be with pen and paper ;) also, in answer to a question in the comments, dean wasn't 'knocked' out. dean 'blacked' out, as in 'fainted'. the answer as to why will be in the next chapter :). love y'all. peace.


	20. Chapter 20

[a/n: i meant to post this on halloween, but it wasn't quite finished enough for me. on a happier note, someone made beautiful fan art for this story that is now the new cover art :) i colored it a bit, but the original art is from triskaidekan. deviantart. com , without the spaces. check them out. they can draw up a storm.]

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CRIMINAL MINDS, SUPERNATURAL, OR ANY COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL HERE IN..

Dean woke slowly. More slowly than he could ever recall in his entire life. It took a ridiculous amount of time to open his eyes even a crack and when he finally managed, all he could make out were blotches of color. He ached absolutely everywhere and felt like puking until he couldn't puke any more.

He whimpered weakly and heard the sound of footsteps scurrying across carpet.

"Penelope?", asked a kind, unfamiliar voice from Dean's right hand side. "Hey there, baby-lady. You gave us a scare."

"Who-..are-..you-..?", Dean rasped haltingly. His throat felt scratched and sore and very dry.

"You.. you don't know?", the voice asked, sounding hurt.

"I told you", huffed a frustrated voice from Dean's left that he did recognize. "It's not Garcia. Dean? This is Emily. You passed out in the road. Do you remember?"

"Kinda..", Dean rasped in reply. "Water..?"

"Yeah, sure", Emily sputtered, feeling silly for not having thought of that before. Dean heard her rush away from where he lay.

"You really don't remember me?", the other voice tried again.

"Can't-..see-..you-..", Dean answered honestly.

"Oh", the voice realized, snatching up Penelope's glasses and gently placing them on Dean's borrowed face. "There. Now you know me, right?"

The image of a beautiful blonde with blue eyes swam into view. Dean wished he knew her. She was gorgeous. Dean shook his borrowed head slowly, mouth hanging slightly agape. Then suddenly, he did recognize her. "Wait-.. you're- one- -of those- agents- from- her team.."

"From your team", JJ corrected him.

"I'm- not-", Dean tried to explain, but JJ shook her head, interrupting.

"I know who you say you are. I don't believe that she's gone. She can't be gone..", JJ sniffed, appearing to be on the verge of tears.

'Oh shit', Dean panicked internally. He would be terrible comfort to this poor woman if she started down that road.

Thankfully, Emily returned with the water he needed. She gave JJ a consoling squeeze on the shoulder and sat on Dean's left again.

"Thanks..", Dean smiled as Emily gently tipped the cup she held to his borrowed lips.

"No problem", Emily dismissed, making sure he drank slowly and didn't spill any.

"What happened?", Dean asked, now that his throat was clearer, trying to wipe away the haze that covered his mind. "The last thing I remember is you handing me back that shot gun.."

JJ looked frightened at the mention of a weapon in the hands of her gentle, non-violent friend.

Emily, nodded, ignoring JJ for the time being. "Well, you turned to leave and kinda.. wobbled. Good thing my reflexes are top-notch or you'd have cracked your- her?- your head on the pavement."

Dean nodded, mulling over her words. "How'd I get here then?"

"I realized you were out cold and I had no help to get you out of there, so I called in JJ for back up. Luckily, she was close by at the time. If it had been anyone else, they would have insisted I take you straight to the nearest hospital. When JJ arrived, we hauled you into my suv and drove straight here instead."

"What happened to Garcia's car?", Dean asked warily, feeling guilty. "I kinda promised her I'd take care of it."

"It's here", Emily answered, to Dean's great relief. "I hid it around back."

"And where is 'here'?", Dean asked, glancing around the room he found himself in.

"A motel a few miles from the main highway", Emily replied. "We'll be safe here. I told my boss JJ and I are working a possible lead, so he won't come looking for us for a while yet."

Dean nodded his approval. "And your name is JJ?", he asked, regarding the blonde agent.

JJ nodded, lips pressed together in a grim line. She didn't see how Emily could possibly think it was okay to feed into Penelope's delusion, but neither did she want her quirky, lovable friend to be locked up in a institution of some sort.

"I suppose I should thank you for saving my ass", Dean addressed shyly. "You girls are good people."

"Like I was gonna leave you in the middle of the road with those things still lurking god knows where?", Emily scoffed. "I don't think so. You may not be Penelope, but you have her body, and without you being there, a lot of people could have died, including me. The way I figured it, I owed you at least one favour.

"What are you talking about?", JJ asked, confused.

"You didn't see the piles of flaming flesh everywhere?", Dean asked with a hint of incredulity.

JJ looked to Emily in wide-eyed terror.

Emily shook her head. "Clem and some locals came by just before JJ arrived and managed to clean up what was left before she got to us.."

Dean grinned, shaking his head in awe of the spunky old man. "God, I love that guy. I hope I'm still that flossy when I'm his age."

"Me too", Emily agreed, nodding.

"What?", JJ squeaked, still dwelling on the part about the flaming flesh. "What?"

Dean and Emily exchanged a look of uncertainty.

JJ wasn't going to like what they had to say. Not one bit.

/space/

JJ's eyes got wider and wider as Dean and Emily's story unfolded. Dean took over where Emily left off and tried to explain the finer mechanics of body switching curses, which he didn't really fully understand, but tried his best to act like he knew what he was talking about. He told both women about his journey so far, skipping over the embarrassing bits and focusing more on the heroics. When the tale was finished, Dean and Emily both gave JJ their best hopeful smiles.

However, it was all for naught. The only thing JJ was convinced of was that she now had two mentally unstable friends to deal with. "And you really believe all this?", was JJ's first question for Emily.

Emily let out a defeated sigh. Hello mission impossible.. "Look, JJ- It's nuts. It really is absolutely nuts, but I've seen things that can't be explained away with any kind of logic, and I've fought those illogical things along side the person lying in this bed and I am telling you- There is nothing else for it. It has to be true. No one like Garcia can become that radically opposite from their true nature. Fighting like I saw displayed back on that road comes from years and years of practiced experience. Garcia doesn't have that knowledge. There's no way."

JJ just couldn't wrap her head around the concept. "It's just too much to believe."

"If I knew a way to prove it to you-", Dean began, but then he stopped mid-sentence, having stumbled upon the solution. "Sonnavbitch, that's it!"

"What's it?", Emily asked, slightly startled.

"Where's my cell?", Dean asked, trying to scramble from the motel bed and regretting the action immediately as the room spun violently.

"It's probably in Ester. I'll go check", Emily offered, wasting no time and sprinting out the motel room door.

JJ helped Dean ease back into the bed and made sure he was tucked in properly again.

"Thanks", Dean smiled gratefully when the spinning died down.

"Don't mention it", JJ half smiled, fidgeting and wishing Emily would hurry up and return. If what the two crazies said was really true, it was super weird. It really freaked her out not knowing the kind of person they'd been saddled with. She could also profile from Dean's story that he was holding back information that made him feel guilty. It worried and disgusted her to think what the possibilities might be.

Dean didn't blame JJ for being edgy. She obviously cared very deeply for Penelope and if it had been in him in her shoes, he'd be a little freaked too.

"Did you want the one in the shopping bag or the one not in a million pieces?", Emily half joked as she re-entered the motel and brought both to Dean.

"Well", JJ sighed sarcastically, "at least that explains why we couldn't track you."

"yeah", Dean chuckled, accepting the phones from Emily. "Took that one apart as soon as I could. Penelope said it was cool though."

"So you've... been in contact with her?", Emily hesitated to ask. Part of her still thought maybe Penelope was split into two personalities and 'Dean' had just become the dominant.

"Which is why I wanted the cell", Dean nodded, turning on the phone, and dialling Sam's number. "So you can talk to her yourselves."

JJ and emily exchanged an apprehensive glance. They were both wondering the same things- Who would they be speaking to, and would Dean's story end up proving true.

"Sammy?", Dean asked into the receiver when he heard someone pick up.

"Dean!", Sam greeted with anger and relief. "What happened? I've been trying to call you for two days!"

"Two days?", Dean blanched, looking to Emily for an explanation.

Emily shrugged. "That's how long you were out. Well, technically, today would have been the second day-"

"Why didn't you and Bobby come get me then?", Dean demanded to know.

"We tried!", Sam defended. "The town has been unofficially quarantined by some guy named Clemment Calhoone. Him and some locals have set up their own blockade. No one in or out. They're saying it's some for some type of rabid animal culling that needs to take place. I told him I knew what wendigos were, but he still wouldn't let me in. He said 'no exceptions'."

Dean frowned in confusion. "That doesn't make any sense. Clem should have let you through."

"Um..", Emily started guiltily. "That's kinda my fault.."

"What?", Dean sputtered, turning towards her.

"I told Clem not to let anyone through before we left for the motel. No exceptions", Emily explained. "I didn't want anyone from our team to come across one of those wendigos unaware just trying to find us."

"Okay", Dean reasoned. "I guess that's okay. We'll just have to come to you."

"But what about that Clem guy?", Sam asked.

"Me and Clem go way back", Dean smirked. "I'll get him to let us through."

"I can sense an epic war story, but it'll have to wait. We need you here ASAP", Sam intoned importantly.

Dean could hear as sense of urgency in his brother's voice. "What's wrong?", he asked, panic rising in his chest. These womanly emotions were a real roller coaster.

Sam hesitated on the end of the line before he caved. "Something's happened to Penelope.."

"What?", Dean asked, barely audible for the amount of fear that constricted his words.

"She passed out two days ago. Right when there was radio silence from you", Sam explained. "Bobby's with her. He has her set up in the panic room. He was with her when it happened and he's barely left her side or moved at all since. All he does is stare at her and hold her hand. I'm kinda worried about him, but more worried about her. You need to get here."

"Roger that", Dean agreed, quelling the fear in his borrowed chest with a firm, internal shove. Now was not the time for a freak out. He needed to get to Bobby's. And fast."

"Which one of you's the fastest driver?", Dean asked the two woman beside him.

JJ pointed to Emily and Emily raised her hand in unison.

"We're comin', Sammy", Dean assured his brother. "As soon as I can haul my ass outta here. We're comin'."

[a/n: i know i said the reason for dean blacking out would be in this chapter, but i had to move it to the next chappy because of a previous plot point that i remembered i had to tie in or it wouldn't make sense plot-wise later on. again, sorry about that but hopefully the next chapter will have answers and emily and JJ meeting sam and bobby, and all that fun stuff :) love y'all. peace.]


	21. Chapter 21

[a/n: tacked an extra bit onto the end. starts at the second /space/ . enjoy :)]

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CRIMINAL MINDS, SUPERNATURAL, OR ANY COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL HERE IN..

Bobby sat in silence as the giant fans in the panic room whirled around and around. He knew a hospital wouldn't do any good. This was powerful voodoo magic going wrong, he could feel it in his gut. He'd seen similar things happen in the past with lesser enchantments, but never this severe. It wouldn't have been as bad if she had just been unconscious and unmoving. Then, at least, his worry would be on a level. But it wasn't so. she shivered in her restless sleep, and whimpered helplessly at whatever was haunting her dreams. Her borrowed eyes flashed relentlessly against her closed lids, and her fever spiked and waned at unpredictable intervals.

Bobby squeezed the rough hand he knew so well as it shook with a fresh tremor. He silently prayed to whoever was listening to bring her back to them. His concern wasn't just for the condition of Dean's body any more. He had become rather attached to Penelope herself over the short time she had been living in his house. She was always inquisitive and cheerful and hilariously funny, despite her current predicament, and never tired in her search for answers. He admired the gusto with which she took to researching and was impressed by how thoroughly she could dig into this or that fact. He found it amusing how she polished the impala almost as much as Dean would have and constantly talked to it while she worked just like him. Bobby might have liked a daughter like her, although she would have likely been a handful.

The tremor subsided and Bobby loosened his grip with an exhausted sigh. It was no use trying to sleep while Penelope was like this. When he closed his eyes, all he could see was the utter terror in her borrowed ones, moments before the seizure or attack had occurred. The power of that silent bid for help had nearly done him in right then and there. It had been like death had sprung up and was going to swallow her whole and she knew it, but it was far too late. Of course, she seemed to be alive, but that did little to comfort him. Perhaps it was only a matter of time.

There was a gentle knock on the door frame and Bobby turned in his chair.

"Hey", Sam greeted, bringing Bobby a bowl of hot stew. "Any change?"

Bobby shook his head sadly. "Nothin'.."

Sam gave the old hunter's shoulder a sympathetic squeeze, pulling up a chair along side him. "She'll be alright", he tried to convince them both.

"I hope so", Bobby sighed, gripping Dean's body's hand as a tremor struck yet again. "Any word from the idjiot?"

"Yeah, actually", Sam answered to Bobby's great surprise. "He called a few minutes ago. He's ..um.. in that quarantined town.."

"What?", Bobby barked, nearly leaping from his chair in anger.

"He's fine. Everything's fine", Sam rushed to explain as Bobby's eyes became hot coals of fury. "There were just a few things he had to take care of and it wiped him out a little bit, so now-"

"What was it?", Bobby interrupted with an angry growl.

Sam just blinked at him stupidly.

"What was it that he had ta take care a'?", Bobby hissed in frustration.

"Um..", Sam didn't really want to say, because he knew it would only make things worse, but he figured Bobby might just beat it out of him anyway. "...Wendigos..?"

"Wendigos!", Bobby roared, spraying Sam with a thin shower of spit. "Plural! As in more than one?"

"Well... yeah..", Sam winched, bracing himself for further anger. "He said he could handle it though!"

If Bobby had been a cartoon character, steam would have been pouring from his ears. His face was scrunched up and reddening, and the veins in his head were throbbing crazily. He sat there for a moment just staring at Sam in livid disbelief, before charging from the room and slamming the door shut behind him.

"Hey!", Sam called out, hearing the locks auto-click into place. But Bobby was long gone. Sam slumped in his chair, arms folded in a huff. He regarded the stew he had brought to comfort the man that had just abandoned him. "Well, at least I won't starve.."

Just as Sam was finishing up the stew, Bobby returned unexpectedly.

"That damned idjiot!", Bobby fumed, slamming a copy of an old maniuscript on the small side table in the room. "If he's not dead before he gets here, I'm gonna kill 'em myself!"

"Dead?", Sam sputtered, alarmed and confused. "He sounded fine on the phone."

"Yeah, but he's gone n' drained his batt'ries", Bobby growled, flipping the old book open and finding the page he was looking for. "Penelope n' I were lookin' inta the connection she felt ta Dean when Dean went n' had a shower in her meat suit. Turns out, curses placed on marital objects are very powerful n' aren't ta be messed with. Even most priestesses refuse ta cleanse marital objects for fear a' the things they tend ta do ta anyone that goes near 'em. In the idol's case, some really heavy bondin' magic is used, n' a priestess can't risk becomin' attached ta someone with a regular mortal life span."

"Why not?", Sam asked, not really seeing how that was bad.

"Though the souls've switched bodies, there is still a major cause n' effect that goes down", Bobby explained. "What happens ta one, happens in a lesser extent ta the other, n' vice versa. Or, at least it's supposed ta anyway."

"What do you mean?", Sam asked. He understood cause and effect, but it didn't seem to fit what Penelope and his brother had been experiencing.

"The evil spirit in the idol we had must 'a messed up the mojo", Bobby answered, flicking back and forth between a few pages, checking his theories. "If the spell is sour, then it tends ta put a strain on the ones it has under sway. It takes more energy ta perform ordinary tasks, n' if one soul becomes the dominant, ya get major problems."

"How?", Sam still didn't fully understand.

"The dominant can control the flow a' the energy along the connection they share", Bobby continued. "Whether they realize it 'er not, they can drain the other soul dry. It think that's what happened here. Dean needed energy ta fight the wengidos, so once he used up all his new body could give 'em, he started stealin' from Penelope herself through their connection without even knowin' it."

"But he's rested up now, so they should be okay, right?", Sam worried, glancing at the twitching Penelope.

Bobby shook his head. "Don't work that way, Sam. He's got part a' her soul livin' inside a' him now. I don't reckon it's somethin' you can just give back without a cost a' some sort."

"But there's a chance?", Sam refused to believe Penelope would just fade away like that.

Bobby shrugged. "Could be. I really can't tell. Somethin' tells me we've crossed inta territory that hasn't been covered a lot before now."

/space/

"How's he doing back there?", Emily asked as she swerved around another tight turn in the road.

"Passed out", JJ answered, flicking a quick glance to the back seat of the suv. "Like I wish I was right about now", she added pointedly, hanging onto the frame of the vehicle for dear life.

"Dean said he needed to get to this Singer's Auto Salvage as soon as possible, so that's what we need to do", Emily countered, decelerating a little as a kind of compromise.

"And you believe all the things we talked about?", JJ asked, still very much in doubt herself.

Emily hesitated, thinking her answer through. "Well.. the creatures we destroyed seemed real enough. That I am almost completely sure of. Even though part of me wishes this was all some terrible nightmare and I'll wake up and laugh about it later, it feels real. As for Penelope and this Dean guy having switched bodies magically... I'm still on the fence. I mean, monsters is one thing. They were tangible. I saw them snarling, I smelt them burning, I had their blood on my clothes. It's hard to deny that. But.. she still looks like Penelope, sounds like Penelope.. maybe some things are a little off, but even still.. I'd like to see the others involved in this before I make any solid decisions."

JJ nodded. "I feel the same. Probably more so, because I didn't see whatever it was you guys fought. To me, everything's still the same as it was before you called me. I need physical proof."

"What ever happens, we should be prepared", Emily hinted meaningfully.

JJ nodded, glancing back at the sleeping Dean again. "I was as soon as you called me."

/space/

Emily was parked in the drive way to Bobby's house just staring at the mountains of old dead cars. It was a verifiable graveyard of wrecks, parts, and some gutted machines. The air smelled of rust and metal, and the glassless gaping windshields seemed to glare ominously down on them.

"Creepy..", Emily whispered, half in awe.

"Home sweet home-away-from-home", Dean grinned groggily. Never had he been more happy to see Bobby's distant front door. He felt like he'd been through the ringer and that everything would be alright now that he was back to familiar turf. "They're expectin' us, so just honk twice to let them know we're friendlies."

JJ gave Dean a questioning glance. "Or what?"

"Ah.. Bobby's a little paranoid- Well, we all are really", Dean explained as delicately as possible for JJ. "Just honk", he insisted for Emily.

Emily honked Ester's horn twice and checked that the gps she had taken from her suv was turned off properly. Dean had insisted they shut the thing off as soon as they passed over the state line.

The three companions and Ester crept slowly up the drive to the old house. It looked in need of repair and the stained wood siding was more stained from weathering than artificial methods.

Dean instructed Emily to pull into the garage off to the side of the house, and grinned widely despite the woozy pain he was in as JJ and Emily helped him out of the car.

"Did ya miss me, baby?", Dean cooed fondly to the impala as they passed by on their way to Bobby's front door. "'cause daddy missed you."

JJ exchanged a bemused glance with Emily before they continued on their way. Some things really didn't change no matter what body you were in, they supposed.

Just as they were climbing Bobby's front steps, the front door opened, and Sam appeared.

"Sammy!", Dean beamed, tears welling in his borrowed eyes at the sweet sight of his brother. He guessed it was the hormones finally kicking in. He didn't approve.

Despite the serious situation, Sam couldn't help a small amused smile of his own. "Dude.. are you wearing make up?"

Dean sighed in frustrated embarrassment. "Trust me, it was easier this way. Where's Bobby?"

Sam's brief smile flickered and died. "He's still in the panic room. She's-..she's worse now."

Emily and JJ felt fear grip them tightly round their hearts. The situation seemed to be graver than Dean had made it out to be. Emily now wished she had driven faster.

"You make it sound like she's going to die", JJ choked disbelievingly. "She can't die. She's- she's- she-.. she just can't die. We need her."

"Bobby's workin' on it, but he hasn't found anything that'll stick so far", Sam explained, sadly shaking his head. "He figures fighting the wendigos is what did it."

"What do you mean?", Dean asked, confused. "I'm the one that fought the damn things. With help", he acknowledged when he saw the offended expression on Emily's face.

"Yeah, but you stole energy from Garcia to do it", Sam tried to clarify. "Once you'd burned up the energy in your host body, you automatically drained it from her soul directly through the link you share."

"But.. I didn't mean to..", Dean defended, feeling worse than the lack of energy was making him feel already.

"It didn't matter", Sam maintained. "Your need for survival over powered her. You became the dominant and that gave you the power."

"Where is she?", Emily asked, urgently feeling the need to go to her.

"She's in the basement of the house", Sam answered, just fully realizing the possible failings of letting strangers into Bobby's house who thought monsters and spells were crazy talk. "Um, Dean.. Aren't they FBI?"

"They're friends of Penelope and good people", Dean vowed sincerely. "I wouldn't be here if it weren't from them."

"Special agent Emily Prentiss", Emily offered, unable to shake Sam's hand because she was helping Dean to remain standing. "And special agent Jennifer Jareau", she continued, indicating JJ, who was holding onto Dean's other side.

JJ just nodded sternly. She didn't want to talk any more. She just wanted her friend alive and back to normal.

Sam hesitated before deciding he didn't have much of a choice now that they were here, and leading them all to the panic room.

As soon as they set foot in Bobby's basement, Emily and JJ's concern rose exponentially. There were normal basement objects present to be sure, but then there was an entire assortment of terrifying occult looking objects strewn in amongst them. The one named Sam and 'Dean' seemed completely unaffected by the sight and simply kept walking, unconcerned. The sight inside 'the panic room' as Sam had called it, made them stop in their tracks.

"What's going on here?", Emily asked, trying not to let her fear enter her voice as she stared wide-eyed at the multitude of symbols drawn all over the walls of the room ahead.

"Yeah, it kinda freaked me out too the first time I saw it", Dean admitted, trying to sooth her. "But they're sigils to ward away evil, not to invite them in for tea. Come on.."

But the two women refused to budge.

"I'm not going in there", JJ balked stubbornly, unslinging Dean's borrowed arm from her shoulders, and stepping away. "For all we know, these guys have brainwashed you into performing some freaky ritual for them! I want no part of that."

"JJ's right", Emily agreed, unslinging from Dean's other side, causing him to wobble and fall against the basement wall for support. "This feels like a trap."

"Come on!", Dean wailed, entirely sick and tired of all their suspicion. "I risked my hide to save your life!", he barked at Emily. "If that don't breed trust, than I don't know what the fuck does!"

"And I wouldn't have needed saving if you hadn't lead those creatures to the blockade", Emily argued. "Awfully convenient that."

"You think I can control what a wendigo does?", Dean blistered in disbelief. "You realize how nuts that sounds right?"

"You realize how nuts you sound right?", JJ scoffed, crossing her arms. "Heck, you practically stink of crazy! It kills me to say this, but you have really got some issues."

"Tough love?", Dean snorted in angry amusement. "Right now? Really? Now, when I need you guys most is when you choose to roll out that wagon?"

Emily and JJ stood rock solid and stony eyed.

"Fine", Dean growled, heaving his sorry borrowed hide into a shaky standing position. "I guess I'll walk alone.."

Sam wished dearly that he could help his brother out, but he couldn't bring himself to touch Penelope's body. It was too freaky just yet. He needed more time to adjust.

Dean stumbled over the threshold to the panic room just as he entered through the door.

Two strong arms reached out and caught him just before his rented face hit the floor.

Dean looked up and saw his saviour staring back at him.

"Whoa..", Penelope breathed as she looked into her own eyes.

[a/n: more to come. stay posted. also, they finally meet and 'shit gets real', as the chillens say.]

UPDATE: [a/n: i was right, wasn't i? ;) 'shit got real'. love y'all. peace.]


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